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OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 







HJ 


* 






“the fairy queen held court, her fairies gathered 

AROUND her” 


Frontispiece. See p. 16 



OVERHEARD IN 
FAIRYLAND 


BY 

MADGE A. BIGHAM 

u 

AUTHOR OF “BLACKIE: HIS FRIENDS AND HIS ENEMIES” 
“STORIES OF MOTHER GOOSE VILLAGE,” ETC. 


WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR BY 

RUTH SYPHERD CLEMENTS 



) » 
l > > 



a 


) 


« 


BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 



Copyright, 1909 , 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


All rights reserved 


Published October, 1909 


✓ 


« 




• e 

« 


THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, TJ.S.A. 




248756 


TO 

SARAH DAVIES BIGHAM 

THE LOVING STEPMOTHER 
WHO WAS EVER MY GOOD FAIRY 


f « 

















































PREFACE 


M R. BARRIE’S fascinating play, 
Peter Pan,” was the real in- 
spiration of this series of nature 
fairy tales, and the kindergarten children 
to whom the tales were first told, them- 
selves very quaintly called them “The 
Peter Pan Tales.” 

This was because they had become very 
deeply interested in the history of the fairy 
boy, Peter Pan, and their sympathy greatly 
aroused because of his great fondness for 
stories. They understood why and how 
he used to hide with the swallows beneath 
the eaves of houses, or linger breathlessly 
near open windows to catch snatches of 
the tales told to the earth-children; how, 
too, in one of these trips to the earth-world, 
Peter had finally lost his shadow, and be- 


viii 


PREFACE 


cause of this was afraid ever to visit the 
houses of the earth-children any more, — 
just at the time, too, when he was most 
anxious to hear the end of the Cinderella 
tale, which pleased him most of all. 

So, how was Peter ever to know that 
the Prince really found the little glass 
slipper and that it fitted Cinderella and 
she went to live with him in the palace? 

This problem seemed to puzzle the kin- 
dergarten circle very much, until by and 
by, from various suggestions, we decided 
that one way in which we might help Peter 
out of his trouble would be to draw the 
pictures of all the stories we thought he 
would like to hear, and then hide them in 
a certain hollow tree — where a fairy boy 
would be sure to find them. 

And thus began the weaving of the tales, 
for, with the ingenuity which must ever 
clothe the student of childhood, the special 
thread of interest was held and followed, 


PREFACE 


IX 


being made the basis of our spring nature- 
study. 

Ostensibly the stories were all for Peter’s 
delight — how did we know but maybe 
Peter Pan might be listening at that very 
moment, peeping shyly from the interlac- 
ing branches of some tall, rustic oak or 
moss-clad pine ? 

And so, while the stories were seemingly 
only for Peter’s joy, in reality they were an 
effort to give to the children a certain ethi- 
cal culture, creating reverence, sympathy, 
and higher ideals, while at the same time 
directing attention, observation, and in- 
terest to what was passed on excursions 
through the woods, so that in the future 
they might not be counted with those who 
having ears, hear not, and eyes, see not. 

Many were the questions asked and 
many the tales woven in legendary form 
around trees and toadstools, flowers, grasses, 
ferns and other growing things, teaching 


X 


PREFACE 


many lessons, — perhaps the chief among 
them being the love and mystery hidden 
in the life of a tiny struggling plant. 

Teach a child to love nature and you 
teach him to love God. And yet, perhaps 
many of us, in our zeal for nature-study, 
overdo the work with the children and spoil 
results through too early technical work. 

Interest in nature should be the one 
prime aim in the beginning. Awaken and 
stimulate interest, and all else must follow, 
since you thereby arouse and quicken the 
desire to know, leading up gradually to 
later and more advanced nature-stud^. 

The ethical value of well-selected fairy 
tales cannot be over-estimated in regard 
to child life, and though the child will be 
wholly unconscious of it, every story in 
this book was written with a well defined 
purpose to strengthen the structure of 
character building, which should be the 
chief aim of all education. 


PREFACE 


xi 


In accordance with the wisdom of the 
Froebelian philosophy, the stories are posi- 
tive in form, stressing only the good and 
the beautiful and tucking out of sight the 
evil, save where, through broad contrast, 
it may serve to strengthen and make more 
shining the pure and beautiful in life. 

It is a kindly sympathy rather than the 
spirit of biting sarcasm that we should 
seek to develop in the child heart in regard 
to the shortcomings of others: 

“So many ways, so many creeds, 

So many paths that wind and wind, 

When just the art of being kind. 

Is all the old world needs.” 

The last three stories in the series have 
been rearranged from a former book of 
the author’s, “Little Folks’ Land,” and 
reprinted through the courtesy of the pub- 
lishers, Atkinson, Mentzer and Grover of 
Chicago. 

MADGE A. BIGHAM. 

Atlanta, Ga. 





. 







CONTENTS 


Page 

Prelude xvii 

Chapter 

I. Fairies 1 

II. The Best Fairy of All 7 

III. Origin of Toadstools 15 


IV. Why Poppies make you Sleep ... 25 

V. Why Apples have Stars within . . 38 

VI. Origin of the Tiger Lily, Snap- 


dragon, and Elephant-Ear ... 47 

VII. Why the Persimmon Tree has its 

Fruit in Three Colors .... 58 

VIII. Flower Pixies 71 

IX. Why the Leaves Shake 82 

X. The Origin of Pussy Willows . . 93 

XI. Why Violets have Golden Hearts . 99 


XII. Origin of the Brown-Eyed Susans . 107 

XIII. Why the Sweet Laburnum comes First 


in the Spring 116 

XIV. Origin of Moonflowers and Morning- 

Glories 123 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

XV. Why Petunias are Sticky . . . 131 

XVI. Why Chestnuts ark in Prison . . 137 

XVII. Why the Ivy is always Green . . 146 

XVIII. Why Roses have Thorns .... 155 

XIX. Why Dandelions have Wings . . 163 

XX. Why PIeartleaves have Pitchers . 170 

XXI. Why the Hyacinth has Bells . . 178 

XXII. Origin of Poplar Blossoms and 

Hickory Tassels 188 

XXIII. Why Pine Trees have Needles . 196 

XXIV. Why the Sunflowers Hang their 

Heads 209 

XXV. Why Flowers have Bright Colors 216 
XXVI. Why Nasturtiums have Lines . . 229 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

“The Fairy Queen held Court, her Fairies 

gathered around her ” Frontispiece 

“ The queer little woman in brown stood looking 

down into his sleeping face ” 8 

“ It was in the heart of a deep and beautiful 

woodland that they met” 16 

“The Pixie Prince has gone to the Earth- 

World” 33 

“ In the center of the blossom you will find a 

beautiful star” 41 

“It was a long time for the little Brownie to 

wait — with his face all shrivelled up ” . 68 

“ Then from every pretty flower a Pixie jumped” 78 

“ Evil Eye slipped quickly up ” 112 

“She sat in deep thought, wondering how she 

could catch up with the robbers ” . . . 183 


xvi 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“ Come to me again to-morrow night, — thy 
thorns shall be ready for thee ” . . . . 

“ The moon looked sorrowfully down ” . . . 

“ He saw a little fair-haired girl sitting on the 
front door-steps sobbing'” 

“ One voice there was that seemed to her 
sweetest of all 11 

“ The little princess never grew weary of looking 
into its still waters'” 

“ Day by day the bees and butterflies kept 
coming ” 

“ He crawled very slowly along the lines that 
the little flower pixie had drawn ” . . . 


Page 

157 

164 

173 

184 

197 

225 

233 


PRELUDE 


And, Nature, the old nurse, took 
The child upon her knee , 

Saying: “ Here is a story-hook 
Thy Father has written for thee 

“Come, wander with me,” she said, 
“Into regions yet untrod; 

And read what is still unread 
In the manuscripts of God.” 

And he wandered away and away 
With Nature, the dear old nurse, 

Who sang to him night and day 
The rhymes of the universe . 

— Longfellow. 




OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


CHAPTER I 


FAIRIES 


D O you believe in fairies ? 

Oh, I hope you do, because all 
of the tales in this book are about 
fairies. Then too, if you believe in fairies 
they will believe in you, and if you do not 
— why, you miss the very best part of your 
life, that is all. 

Once upon a time, however, there was 
a little boy who did not believe in fairies. 
I think his eyes were not put in just the 
right way, or perhaps it was his mother’s 
eyes that were wrong — anyway, neither 
one of them had ever seen a fairy and it 
was a very sad thing. 

Now, if you grew up to be as large as 
a grown-up mother without ever seeing a 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


fairy, the chances are that you never will 
see a fairy at all ; but if you are just a little 
boy — why, there is always hope then. 

It seemed queer though, that the little 
boy I am telling you about did not believe 
in fairies, for his little playmate Pansy did. 
She told the little boy there must be fairies, 
because the woods were full of them, and 
besides she had seen the sunbeam fairies 
dancing on the walls in dresses of red and 
green and violet and other beautiful colors. 

And she had seen the raindrop fairies 
too, in queer little rain-coats of silver gray, 
and the snowflake fairies, so very soft and 
dainty, who come with little star-shaped 
blankets to cover the sleeping plants. 

All of these his little playmate Pansy 
had seen, and many more besides which 
she told the little boy about, but he only 
laughed and shook his head as he said: 

“There are n’t any fairies, Pansy, — 
Mother says there are not.” 


FAIRIES 


3 


And then, of course, the little girl was too 
polite to say anything more. 

But old Mother Nature, — she is the 
very dearest fairy of all, — when she heard 
the little boy laugh and say, “There are n’t 
any fairies,” she shook her head too, very 
slowly, and said, “Tut, tut, to think of the 
child saying such a thing ! If ever I get 
the chance I will show him a thing or 
two.” 

And she did get the chance the very next 
day, for the little boy took a notion he 
would take a walk through the woods, and 
although he walked down the most beau- 
tiful of little twisting paths, not a fairy did 
he see. 

Now that is just the way with a little 
boy who does not believe in fairies — he 
could not see one, even if he tried. 

And yet, all the time the fairies, and 
brownies too, were peeping at him from 
the cups of tiny flowers and moss-covered 


4 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


banks and rustic trees and toadstools and 
silvery little water-falls. 

But they had their tiny fingers on their 
lips, so, and kept whispering one to another, 
“H-u-s-h, here comes a little boy who does 
not believe in fairies,” and then little peals of 
rippling laughter floated through the woods. 

But the little boy never knew, and 
walked straight ahead with his hands in 
his pockets until, by and by, he grew tired 
and sat down on a clover bank to rest. 

Now there was someone else walking 
through the woods that day, following close 
behind the little boy. 

No, it was not Pansy, though I knew 
you would think so. It was a little old 
woman, all dressed in brown from her 
head to her feet. 

Brown was her dress, so soft and rich; 
brown were the sandals on her feet; and 
brown the quaint little hood that covered 
her head. 


FAIRIES 


5 


The sunlight had mixed with the brown 
of her hair, and her eyes — they were the 
most beautiful brown of all, and made you 
think of the wealth of the forest woods, 
with murmuring brooks and singing winds, 
and lights and shadows mingled there, and 
the stars overhead so full of hope and trust. 

Oh, yes ! the stars believe in the fairies, 
I am sure. 

Very softly did the little old woman’s 
brown sandaled feet touch the pathway 
as she followed behind the little boy. Some- 
times he would get far ahead of her, be- 
cause she stopped to look at things. 

The breeze fairies threw kisses at her as 
she passed, the sunbeams kissed her hair, 
and the daisies pressed her feet, they loved 
her so. 

Sometimes she stopped and peeped in 
the nests where the baby birdlings slept, 
stroked them gently on their heads, and 
passed along with a crooning song. 


6 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Sometimes she stooped on the grassy 
banks of the brook and, trailing her soft 
fingers through the water, played with the 
speckled perch gliding by. Merry brown 
squirrels peeped at her from the hollow 
trees and showed where their winter nuts 
were stored, and the timid white rabbits 
hopped close to her side and told of their 
babies tucked away in the grass. 

So the little old woman, all dressed in 
brown, passed on her way with a smile for 
everyone, and by and by she came to the 
very spot where the little boy had stopped 
to rest. 

And the little boy lay fast asleep. 


CHAPTER II 

THE BEST FAIRY OF ALL 

N OW, as you know, the little old 
woman all dressed in brown was 
none other than Old Mother Nature 
— the very same who had heard the little 
boy say, “There aren’t any fairies, Pansy, 
— Mother says there are not.” 

And now the little boy lay sleeping at her 
feet. 

For a moment the queer little woman in 
brown stood looking down into his sleep- 
ing face and then she stooped and kissed 
him softly on the cheek. 

“Such a sad little boy,” she said, “not 
to believe in fairies.” Then, taking some 
fine golden fairy dust from her pocket, she 
sprinkled it over his head and shoulders, 


8 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


and seated herself by his side to wait until 
he should awake. 

But the little old woman did not fold her 
hands while she waited — there was always 
work for her to do, and taking a big brown 
bag from her belt, filled to the brim with 
seeds, she poured them in a steady stream 
into her lap, and busily began to sort them 



THE BEST FAIRY OF ALL 


9 


up and looked with wonderment into her 
face. 

“Little boys sleep while the fairies work,” 
said the little old woman with a twinkle in 
her eyes. “I have been following behind 
you all through your walk and when you 
sat down to rest, I sat down to work.” 

The little boy seemed very much puzzled 
and stretched his eyes wider and wider. 

“I did not see you,” he said. 

“No, and there were many other things 
you did not see, also,” she replied. “It 
was a most beautiful walk. 

“We passed birds and fish and flowers and 
rabbits and squirrels and — and fairies!” 
Then the little old woman threw back her 
head and laughed merrily, because the 
little boy looked so surprised, you know. 
He had not seen any of those things at 
all, — he most surely had not seen a fairy. 

‘ 4 Are you a fairy ? ’ 9 asked the little boy , look- 
ing straight into her beautiful brown eyes. 


10 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“To those who believe in fairies, I am,” 
said the little old woman, with a touch of 
sadness in her voice. “Come, sit beside 
me, and help me sort out my children — 
there are more than you can count.” 

“Children? I see no children,” said the 
little boy, “where are they?” 

“Here in my lap,” replied the little 
old woman, “in the woods around you, 
— everywhere. Look and you will find 
them. 

“I am the nurse and mother of all that 
lives in forest or water — all that flies, all 
that creeps, all that swims, all that sleeps — 
all are my children and I nurse and watch 
over them. Would you not like to help 
me sort these seed babies?” 

Somehow the little boy did not seem one 
bit afraid, but edged closer to the little old 
woman and began to do as she did. 

“See,” she said, “place the large seeds 
here, the small seeds here, the prickly seeds 


THE BEST FAIRY OF ALL 


ii 


here, the pod seeds here, and the winged 
seeds here — so. 

“Handle them gently, little lad, for a 
plant baby sleeps in each one. They are 
a deal of care, and keep me busy, I can tell 
you, since they all have to be tucked in bed 
in different parts of the world — just where it 
is the best for them, neither too hot nor yet too 
cold ; and they have to be fed and watered 
and cuddled the same as any earth-child. 

“But then, at last, when they bud and 
blossom. Oh, but they are a joy to me 
then, and enough to fill the heart of any 
mother ! Each little blossom has a tale to 
tell as to how it got its name — listen and I 
will tell you, while we work. 

“This tiny brown seed, so small you can 
hardly see it, has never had a name until 
to-day. The fairies have named it Pansy 
for a dear little girl they know — a little girl 
with golden hair and dark, rich violet eyes/’ 

“Oh!” said the little boy, jumping up 


i2 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


from his seat, “1 believe I know that little 
girl, because a little girl named Pansy lives 
close by me — maybe it is she.” 

“Maybe so,” replied the little old woman 
in brown, nodding her head at the little 
boy. “Maybe so — especially if she is 
the little girl who believes in fairies.” 

“And this seed?” asked the little boy, 
holding out a smooth, round white one, 
“tell me about this one.” 

“That seed,” said the little old woman, 
“is the lady slipper. Its blossoms are in 
white and blue and pink and violet, and 
never was it seen upon the earth until after 
the story of Cinderella. 

“Now she was a little girl the fairies 
loved too — because Cinderella most surely 
believed in the fairies. 

“Look closely at its delicate blossom, 
and you will find it is shaped just like a 
little slipper. It is Cinderella’s little slipper 
and the fairies placed it there. 




THE BEST FAIRY OF ALL 


i3 


“It is also said that the prince who rode 
through the forest in search of her whom 
the slipper would fit, lost the crimson 
feather from his velvet cap and the feather 
was never found, but in its place a strange 
new flower was found, and it looked so 
much like a feather that it was ever after- 
wards called the prince’s feather. 

“Perhaps the fairies had something to 
do with that” continued the little old 
woman, with a smile about her lips. 

“Anyway, you will find them growing to- 
day, much to the delight of the earth-chil- 
dren — the lady slipper and the prince’s 
feather.” 

“Yes, I have seen them myself,” said 
the little boy, turning the small, round 
seed over and over in his hand, “but I 
never knew before about the fairies — I 
wish you were my mother.” 

“I?” said the little old woman, with a 
fresh ripple of laughter, “why, I could 


i 4 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


never be spared for an earth-child’s mother. 
How could my babies get on without me? 

“What would the baby birdlings do, when 
lost from their mother’s breast ? What would 
the baby bees and the baby ants and the baby 
fish and the baby seed do — all waiting to 
be fed and watered and warmed and cuddled 
and shaken up for their spring awakening ? 

“No, I could n’t be spared, I think, little 
boy, but at least I will be your fairy godmother, 
but — there, I hear someone calling me !” 

And then what do you think happened ? 

The little old woman all dressed in brown 
grew dimmer and dimmer and dimmer, 
until there was n’t any old woman at all, 
and though the little boy looked and looked, 
behind all the big trees and bushes and 
rocks, — all that he saw was an old brown 
stump, and yet, there in the palm of his 
hand was a small, round pea seed. 

Now what do you think of that ? 


CHAPTER III 


ORIGIN OF TOADSTOOLS 

O NCE every year, between the hours 
of midnight and dawn, the fairy 
queen and all of the fairies from 
fairyland meet together and hold a festival. 

Here they dance around the May-pole 
and sing and talk and sip nectar juice and 
dainty cream until just before sunrise, when 
they fly back again to fairyland. 

It was in the heart of a deep and beautiful 
woodland that they met one night in May 
to hold this yearly festival. 

Long silver-gray moss hung in cascades 
from tall cypress trees, and flowers rich and 
rare cast their fragrant perfume on the air, 
while the moon hung like a crystal lamp 
over the lake, throwing a shimmering path 
of light across its smooth surface. 


16 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 



Seated on a rustic 
throne of twisted roots the 
fairy queen held court 
— her fairies gathered around 
her. 

They were talking together of 
the earth- world, and of their plans for the 
pleasure of the good children there, — 
what they had done the past year and 
what they would like to do the next. 

The queen was made very happy by 
the reports she heard from her fairies, 
and rising from her rustic bower she 
said: “Come, fairies, one and all, 
let us make something very beau- 
tiful for the earth-children to- 
night. 

— ‘ ‘ Let us make them a magic 


ORIGIN OF TOADSTOOLS 


*7 

wishing umbrella, such that the first one 
who stands beneath it, may make a wish 
and it will surely come true. Hasten, for 
the jewelled dawn will soon be parting the 
rosy curtains of day, and we have no time 
to lose.” 

So, with a song of gladness, the fairies 
sprang to their feet, and catching hands, 
danced around a fairy ring, singing and 
weaving as they danced, and by and by, 
suspended above their heads, was a most 
beautiful silken umbrella — cream on the 
outside and lined with the most delicate 
pink. The handle was pearl and it was 
quite the prettiest umbrella that anyone 
ever saw. 

Then the fairy queen, who alone can 
sprinkle the wonderful wishing dust, dipped 
her fingers into the golden powder and 
sprinkled the dainty umbrella inside and 
out — and now it was quite ready for a 
fairy gift to the earth-children. 

2 


18 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Calling two of the fairies who were fleet- 
est of wing, she told them to carry the um- 
brella swiftly to the earth-land and place 
it on the top of a very high hill called The 
Hill of Faith. 

The two fairies did as they were told, and 
then all of the little dream fairies, who carry 
around the pretty dreams, hastened on 
wings of love to the earth-land’s sleeping 
children and whispered in pretty dreams 
what the fairies had done for them. 

There are still many children now, like 
the little boy I have already told you about, 
who do not believe in fairies, and so it was 
in those days. 

Night after night the little dream fairies 
visited their beds and told them over and 
over again about the gift of the wonderful 
wishing umbrella; but when morning came 
not a child would believe it enough to climb 
to the top of the high Hill of Faith. 

True they stood in the streets and in 


ORIGIN OF TOADSTOOLS 


19 


their doorways and talked about the wonder- 
ful umbrella, and even told what wish they 
would like to make should they be first to 
reach the hilltop and stand beneath its 
magic shelter. 

One little blue-eyed boy with fair curls, 
whose eyes were brighter than any of the 
others, said he believed the umbrella must 
be on the top of the hill, as the dream fairies 
had told them. 

He thought he could really see its dim 
outline and he started off alone, up the hill, 
with a happy smile on his rosy lips, but he 
had gone only a short way when the hot, 
shining sun made his head ache, and he 
turned back saying he believed he must have 
been mistaken after all, because he could 
not see the umbrella as before. 

Then a group of merry-hearted girls and 
boys started off up the hill, but the sharp 
stones cut their feet, and one by one they, 
too, came back, tired and cross, and they 


20 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


also said they did not believe the umbrella 
was there. 

Now there was a little toad who hopped 
about in the grass at the foot of the hill, and 
though his coat was rusty and his eyes were 
dull, still he was wiser than the earth-land 
children, because he believed in fairies — 
this little toad. 

The dream fairies had not been to him, 
but his ears were very sharp and he had 
heard the children talk and talk and talk 
about the wonderful wishing umbrella, until 
he knew it must be there. 

Then, because the little toad had a wish 
he wanted to make, he started out one 
morning very early, up, up, up the high Hill 
of Faith, and he said to himself, “I’ll go 
see for myself if what I hear is true.” 

So he hopped and hopped and hopped 
and hopped and hopped and hopped and 
hopped, and though the sun was very hot 
and the little toad longed for water, still he 


ORIGIN OF TOADSTOOLS 


21 


would not stop, but hopped higher and 
higher and higher up the sharp, rocky path, 
until by and by the dark night came, and 
he could not see one inch ahead of him. 

Still he would not turn back, but hopped 
on higher and higher, feeling his way in 
the dark, as he kept thinking of the wish- 
ing umbrella, which he believed he would 
surely find at the top. 

And the morning found him still hopping. 

Now all this time the little toad was hop- 
ping higher and higher up the hill, the earth- 
children stood in the valley below, gazing at 
the top, and trying to see without having 
to climb up. 

“It is too high up, anyway,” they grum- 
bled; “no child could climb so high. Why 
did n’t the fairies put the umbrella at the 
bottom of the hill if they wanted to give us 
anything P It is so much trouble to climb.” 

But fairies are very wise, you know, and 
besides they did not want a lazy child to 


22 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


stand beneath the umbrella — because a 
lazy child would never know how to make a 
wise wish. 

Then too, they did not want anyone who 
did not believe in fairies to find the wishing 
umbrella, and that was the very reason why 
they had placed it on the very top of the high 
Hill of Faith. 

But the little toad still believed, and 
though the journey was a long one, it came 
to an end, and, one bright, beautiful morn- 
ing, footsore and weary, he reached the top 
of the hill, and there was the beautiful fairy 
umbrella right before his eyes ! 

Now the little toad had planned to wish 
for the world full of flies — enough for him- 
self and all the other toads, so that they 
might always have plenty to eat without 
bothering to catch them. 

But somehow, when he saw the beautiful 
wishing umbrella which the fairies had 
taken so much trouble to make for the little 


ORIGIN OF TOADSTOOLS 


23 


earth-children, he felt so very sorry that 
none of them had been wise enough to 
believe, and climb to the top of the hill and 
see the wonderful umbrella for themselves, 
and stand beneath its shade and make the 
wish they wanted most of all — the little 
toad thought all of this was so very sad that 
he hopped right up, underneath the wishing 
umbrella, and said: 

“I wish that thousands of tiny little um- 
brellas, as beautiful as this one, may spring 
up all over the world in valleys and fields 
and woods, so that every little earth-child 
may see for himself and know for a truth 
of the fairies’ kind gift — the wishing 
umbrella.” 

Then the little toad hopped from beneath 
the umbrella and, much to his surprise, 
there was sweet music all around him, and 
the beautiful umbrella slowly closed up like 
a flower, and rose higher and higher and 
higher until it was quite out of sight. 


24 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


And the little toad’s wish came true, 
because, sure enough, that very day the 
earth-children found scattered over fields 
and valleys and woods these dainty little 
fairy umbrellas of cream and pink, just 
large enough for a toad to sit beneath, — 
but not for an earth-child. 

Often, it is said, the pixies gather the 
little umbrellas and place them in a ring — 
as you have sometimes found them — and 
here they sit when they have their moon- 
light picnics and laugh about the little 
earth-children who do not believe in fairies. 

Now the fairy queen was very much pleased 
when she heard about the little toad and the 
very kind wish he had made, and she said : 

“Forever and ever these dainty fairy 
umbrellas shall be known as toadstool urn** 
brellas, in memory of the little toad who 
heard and believed.” 

And so they are to this day. 


CHAPTER IV 


WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 

O NCE upon a time there was a little 
pixie who lived alone in a poppy 
blossom. 

Deep down in the cup of the poppy he had 
a pretty room ail his very own. There was 
a soft bed to lie on, draped about with 
silken rose-colored curtains, and there was 
nectar juice to drink and golden pollen- 
bread, which is sweeter and better than 
cake. 

Then there was cooling dew in the rose- 
petal tub ever ready for his bath, and every- 
thing else you could think of to make a little 
pixie happy. 

Now this little pixie was the son of a 
king, and that made him a pixie prince, you 


26 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


see, so everybody did all they could to make 
him have a good time ; he had only to make 
a wish and it was granted. 

The spiders and caterpillars took special 
delight in weaving him the finest silken 
clothes; the sunbeam fairies dyed them in 
beautiful colors for him, and the sweet peas 
made for him the daintiest of slippers from 
the Cinderella pattern. 

The bees flew for miles to bring his 
favorite honey, and for the cool, damp days, 
the pansies made for him rich velvet cloaks 
bordered in gold. 

If at night the little pixie wished to take a 
ride, he had only to mount a firefly, who 
sailed through the air far swifter than a 
horse, and if in the daytime he chose to 
ride, there was a crimson hollyhock car- 
riage drawn by harnessed butterflies of blue, 
white, and yellow. 

The birds and the breezes sang their 
sweetest songs to him, and it surely seemed 


WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 


27 


that the little pixie prince ought to be very 
happy. 

And yet he was not happy the least bit, 
and by and by he became so cross and 
queer that his friends did not know what 
to make of him. 

For days and days he would lie on his 
silken bed and never a word would he have 
to say, except to scold and fret, and at last 
he said he was very sick, so they sent for a 
fairy doctor. 

Now when the fairy doctor came and 
looked at the little pixie, he knew at once 
that he was suffering with ennui, — a most 
dreadful sickness indeed, and one which 
could only be caught from people living 
in the earth-land. 

Of course the little pixie did not want to 
have ennui any more than you want to 
have mumps, but that did not make any 
difference, because he yawned and yawned 
and yawned so much that the fairy doctor 


28 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


knew he did have ennui and nothing else, 
so there ! 

Now the only cure for ennui is to get right 
up and go to work and keep on working, 
and the very minute you forget the disease 
— why, it will leave you and go to some- 
body else, who has nothing to do. 

“You see,” said the fairy doctor to the 
little pixie, “everybody has been so busy 
thinking about you, and doing kind things 
to make you happy, that you have forgotten 
to make other people happy, and so you 
have just caught the ennui, like earth-people, 
and if you want to get well, why, you will 
have to get up and go to work.” 

Then the fairy doctor went away and left 
the little pixie to think about it. 

Now the trouble was that this little pixie 
prince had never learned to work, but the 
longer he lay in his silken bed the sicker he 
grew with his ennui, so he just had to get up. 

When he got out into the fresh air he 


WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 29 


felt a little bit better and began to run and 
jump, and he played marbles and ball, 
and he climbed rose bushes and threw 
pebbles and hopped and skipped and rolled, 
and then danced for hours around the pixie 
ring, but still he could not forget about the 
ennui disease. 

And no wonder, because playing and 
working are two different things, you know. 

So, that night, when the little pixie went 
to bed, he was very miserable indeed, 
though the tiny poppy lady, who was his 
housekeeper, tied up his head with a cool 
rose petal. 

The next morning when the fairy doctor 
came and looked at the little pixie he shook 
his head and said, 4 ‘Your tongue shows 
you have n’t been doing any work and your 
ennui is worse to-day than it was yesterday. 
You must work if you want to get well, 
for your disease is a very bad case indeed.” 

Then he went away again and the little 


3 o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


pixie got up and went once more into the 
fresh air, which always made him feel 
better, and wondered and wondered about 
the work he could do. 

All at once he clapped his hands together 
gayly, and said, “Oh, now I know ! 

“I will learn to spin from the caterpillars 
and spiders, and spin myself a whole trunk- 
ful of pretty clothes. Then, I will learn 
from the bees to make honey and pollen- 
bread and I will store my pantry full, to 
last a whole year.” 

The caterpillars and the spiders and the 
bees were glad to help him, and soon he 
was as busy as a bee, sure enough, and in 
a few days had stored his pantry full of 
good things to eat, besides having made a 
whole trunkful of beautiful clothes. 

But somehow, yes, somehow he just 
could not forget his dreadful ennui disease, 
and though he was a little better, still he 
was far from feeling well, and the tiny 


WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 31 


poppy housekeeper had to tie up his head 
with a bandage from the plum blossom, 
which is considered even better than the 
rose-leaf bandage she had tried before. 

When next the fairy doctor came he 
shook his head again, and said, “Your 
tongue shows work, but work of the wrong 
kind. You have worked only for yourself 
and that will never cure ennui — you must 
work for others.” 

Then, as before, he went away and left 
the pixie prince to himself, and the pixie 
was very sad and miserable indeed. His 
ennui grew worse and worse, until he just 
could not lie still. 

The tiny poppy housekeeper came trail- 
ing in, wearing her prettiest flowered gown, 
and brought the little pixie some of the 
fresh honey he had made the day before. 

“Maybe if you will eat something, you 
will feel better,” she said. But the little 
pixie only turned his head to the wall and 


32 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


cried, “Oh, what must I do to get rid of 
this terrible ennui ?” 

The tiny poppy housekeeper felt very 
sorry for him and, with her cool, soft fingers, 
smoothed the pain away from his brow, 
while she sat in deep thought. 

At last she said, “Little prince, I think 
maybe I can help you if you are really 
willing to work for others. I can tell you 
something to do, but it is down in the earth- 
land, and you might not want to go.” 

“Oh, I am willing to go anywhere and 
to do anything to get rid of this terrible 
ennui disease!” said the pixie prince. 
“Tell me quickly.” 

“Well,” replied the tiny poppy house- 
keeper, “down in the earth-world, where 
people live, there are many other diseases 
besides ennui. 

“Now in this earth-world, sleep is the 
best cure for many of these diseases, but 
sleep is not always easy for them to get. 



THE PIXIE PRINCE HAS GONE TO THE EARTH-WORLD ” Page 37 







WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 35 


“There are sick, fretting babies, tired 
little girls and boys, weary mothers and 
fathers, worn-out men and women who 
long for sleep at the close of day, and be- 
cause of the heat and the noise and their 
worries and troubles they cannot go to 
sleep, however hard they try. Now all of 
these need help. 

“I, myself, know how to make a won- 
derful sleeping powder, which I use to put 
my own baby seeds to sleep, and I will 
gladly make some for you if you will make 
a bag of beautiful dreams to carry with it 
to the earth-land. 

“You must make baby dreams, and 
dreams to make girls and boys happy, 
and dreams for mothers and fathers and 
all other tired men and women — dreams 
that will make them forget their troubles, 
and sleep the sleep of perfect rest. Are you 
willing to try?” 

Of course the pixie prince was. He was 


36 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


so happy he could hardly wait until his bag 
was finished. He made it of rose-colored 
satin, and stuffed it to the very brim with 
the most beautiful dreams — perhaps you 
have had one. 

And by that time the tiny poppy house- 
keeper had the sleeping powder ready. 
Strapping the bag across his back, with 
a kiss and a wave of his hand to her, he 
mounted a white butterfly and flew straight 
to the earth-world. 

Strange to say, the little pixie prince 
became so busy scattering his dreams and 
sleeping powder, that he forgot all about 
his ennui, and never has he remembered 
it from that day to this. 

The fairy doctor called time and time 
again, but he could never catch the 
little pixie at home, and the tiny poppy 
housekeeper always said the very same 
thing : 

‘‘The pixie prince has gone to the earth- 


WHY POPPIES MAKE YOU SLEEP 37 


world with a rose-colored bag of beautiful 
dreams.” 

And bless you ! that is the reason why 
we sleep and dream to-day. 

The pixie prince pays us a call, and the 
tiny poppy housekeeper is ever hard at 
work making the sleeping powder. 

And that is why poppies make you sleepy 
— just smell them and see. 


CHAPTER V 


WHY APPLES HAVE STARS WITHIN 

A ND you did not even know an 
apple had a star within, you say? 

Why, then, I am afraid you 
have never eaten an apple in just the 
proper way. 

The next time you have one, cut it 
round into three circles, and just in the very 
center of each circle you will find the pic- 
ture of an apple blossom, and in the center 
of the blossom you will find a beautiful 
star — each one of the five points holding 
baby seeds. 

How did the star get there ? 

Well, that is a story that Old Mother 
Nature told the other trees, and I will tell 
it to you. 


WHY APPLES HAVE STARS WITHIN 39 


A long, long time ago the very first apple 
seed lay in the ground fast asleep. The 
raindrop fairies carried her water to drink, 
and the sunbeam fairies kept her warm, 
while a little worm plowed the ground and 
made it soft about her feet. 

One bright spring morning the bluebirds 
sang, “Wake up, wake up,” and the baby 
apple seed stretched, rubbed her eyes, 
pushed right through the brown earth, and 
was very much surprised to find herself a 
small apple-tree. 

She thought the outside world was a 
very beautiful place indeed, and wondered 
and wondered about the clouds and the 
birds and the sun. She thought the day 
was very beautiful, but when night spread 
its canopy over the world, spangled over 
with the silver moon and thousands of 
sparkling stars shining like so many candles 
in the sky, the little apple-tree reached out 
her limbs as high as she could and longed 


4 o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


with all her baby soul for just one star of 
her very own. 

Now the little apple-tree had hardly made 
the wish when she heard the tinkle of tiny 
silver bells, and there, close to her side, 
stood the fairy princess of all the orchard 
trees, a star formed of rare diamonds 
sparkling in her crown. 

“I have heard your wish, little tree,” she 
said, “and the star shall be yours if you are 
willing to wait and work for it. Beautiful 
things come only through striving, and if, as 
you live, you seek to grow both strong and 
beautiful, the wish shall be granted you and 
the star shall be your own to do with as you 
choose.” And then the fairy was gone. 

For many days the little tree could think 
only of the fairy and the promised star, 
and as she thought, she worked, sending 
her roots deeper and deeper into the ground, 
and trying hard to keep her trunk and 
branches straight and strong. 


WHY APPLES HAVE STARS WITHIN 


4i 



not always easy to 
do, for the wind often blew 
roughly against the little tree, 
and the rain storms beat upon her, bend- 
ing her body almost to the ground, and 
shaking her limbs from root to crown. 

Still she did not forget or cease to try, 
and when the wind and rain had passed 
she lifted her head to the sunbeam fairies 
and waved to them for help, and little by 
little, inch by inch, she raised her body up 
again, and each time found herself stronger 
than before. 




42 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“It is the way of the Storm King,” said 
the sunbeam fairies, as they danced through 
the leaves of the little tree. “He bends you 
back and forth and up and down to help to 
make you strong. You have only to try, 
and you can always rise again — straighter 
and stronger than ever before.” 

So the little tree learned not to be afraid 
of the great Storm King, and at night when 
she looked up into the spangled heavens, 
the twinkling stars smiled down on her 
and she was very happy indeed. 

One morning a happy surprise came to 
the little apple-tree. She found when she 
awoke that all of her branches were filled 
with exquisite blossoms of delicate pink, 
and as she looked with joy into the heart 
of each wee bud, she thought she saw a 
star fairy, smiling back at her. 

Day by day she gloried in the richness 
of her treasures, though now her work 
seemed only just begun, for there was 


WHY APPLES HAVE STARS WITHIN 43 


pollen dust to make and nectar juice to 
prepare for the bees, who so kindly helped 
her to care for the dainty blossoms. 

But the little tree grew happier and 
happier — not so much because her blos- 
soms were so beautiful, as that she knew 
the blossoms would soon change into apples, 
and that every one would hold baby apple 
seeds, which would some day be planted 
and grow into apple-trees like herself. 

And so she did not grieve when, one 
morning, as it happens to all orchard 
trees, the pretty pink petals fell from the 
blossoms and drifted away to play with the 
wind. 

Indeed, the apple-tree became so busy 
caring for the little apples which held her 
baby seeds that she forgot all about the 
fairy princess, who had promised her the 
beautiful star, forgot about herself, forgot 
everything but the baby seeds, and feeding 
and caring for them. 


44 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


That is just the way it is with mothers, 
you know, — they often forget everything, 
but loving and working for their children. 

And so, day by day, the apples which 
held the baby seeds grew large and round 
and juicy, and when the sunbeam fairies 
came to kiss them they blushed a crimson 
red, while the apple-tree rustled her leaves 
with laughter, so very happy was she. 

What did she care for stars, now that she 
had her baby seeds? The earth-children 
were welcome to the red apples — she had 
made them juicy and red on purpose that 
they might be eaten, — for how else were 
the baby seeds to get out, I should like to 
know ? 

So, you see, the little apple-tree had 
grown very wise in her love for her baby 
seeds, and she was very much surprised 
one night when again she heard the tinkle, 
tinkle of silver bells, and the orchard fairy 
stood smiling at her side. In her hand 


WHY APPLES HAVE STARS WITHIN 45 


she held, not one, but a whole bagful of 
stars. 

4 ‘Strong and very beautiful have you 
grown, little tree,” she said, — “strong 
because you have forgotten yourself for 
others, beautiful because you have lived 
for others. 

“Many months have I watched you battle 
against rain and wind storms, heat and 
drought; every time you have fallen you 
have risen again, stronger and more beau- 
tiful than before. Behold, here are your 
stars. Shall I make you a crown?” 

“A crown oh, beautiful fairy? Not 
for me,” said the tree. “That was a foolish 
wish of mine. But if stars you have to 
give, — give them, I pray you, to my baby 
seeds.” 

A smile passed over the fairy’s face, and 
bowing her head in the moonlight, she re- 
plied, “It is ever as you say, little tree, and 
I grant to you your wish.” 


46 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


So it is that the earth-children find stars 
in their apples to-day; and tucked snugly 
away in each tiny point, you will find the 
brown seed babies, which the apple-trees 
delight to have you plant. 


CHAPTER VI 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY, SNAPDRAGON, 
AND ELEPHANT-EAR 

O NCE upon a time there was an 
enchanted lake in the midst of a 
beautiful garden. 

Over the great stone archway of the old 
gate, moss-grown and almost hidden from 
sight, one could read the words : 

“ Perfect Love Casteth Out All Fear.” 

Now only one drop of the water from 
this enchanted lake would cure sickness of 
whatever kind, and many were the travelers 
who came from far countries in search of the 
water — either for themselves or to carry to 
some loved one who was too ill to come. 

Some who came were blind, some lame, 
others deaf or suffering with dreadful dis- 


48 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


eases of many kinds, but though they came 
full of hope, they turned away sorrowfully, 
because they were afraid to enter in at the 
old stone gate. 

This was because of the dreadful beasts 
in the garden that guarded the enchanted 
lake. They were evil and did not wish any 
one to drink of the healing water. 

Now the garden was laid off in three 
circles — one within another, and right in 
the very center of the smallest circle was 
the wonderful lake, its waters as clear as 
crystal. 

The first circle was guarded by a terrible 
dragon, and to those who came to the gate 
he opened his great mouth, snapped his 
jaws and shot flames of fire from his eyes. 

No wonder those who came to the old 
stone gate grew frightened and turned away 
so sorrowfully. 

The second circle was guarded by a huge 
tiger who gnashed his sharp teeth and 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY 49 


growled in rage, ready to tear anyone into 
shreds who should dare cross his pathway — 
so powerful were his sharp claws. 

And yet even that was not all, for at the 
third and inner circle, where the enchanted 
lake lay like a sea of glory, an elephant — 
the largest and most powerful of any in the 
whole world — stood ready to seize you with 
his dreadful trunk and crush every bone 
in your body. 

So, you see, it took the bravest of people 
to enter into this beautiful garden — how- 
ever much they longed for the water — even 
after they had read the sign over the moss- 
covered gate. 

Now, far away across the mountain from 
the enchanted lake lived a little boy whose 
name was Lionel — perhaps because he 
was brave and strong like a lion. 

But at this time I am telling you of, the 
little Lionel was very unhappy, because his 
dear father was very, very sick, and none of 
4 


5 o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


the doctors in the land could make him 
well. 

So the dear mother sat by his bedside 
with tear-stained cheeks and longed and 
longed that he might grow strong enough to 
walk to the beautiful garden and drink from 
the enchanted lake whose waters would 
surely make him well. 

“Let me go, Mother mine,” said little 
Lionel, putting his arms about her neck — 
“only one drop of the water will make Father 
well, and surely I can bring you that.” 

“Have you not heard, my little son, of 
the terrible monsters that stand ready to 
devour those who enter within the gates of 
the beautiful garden? You, a little boy, 
could never even reach the brink of the 
enchanted lake. 

“You would never come back to me, and 
I should be robbed of both husband and 
son. Oh, no, I could never let you go.” 

So spoke the troubled mother, but the 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY 51 


sick father grew so much worse with the 
dreadful burning fever, and the little Lionel 
begged so hard to be allowed to go, that by 
and by the mother said: 

“Go, and if you never come back to me, 
I shall surely die. But listen, my boy,” 
and placing her hand beneath his chin, she 
raised his head till the blue eyes looked into 
hers. 

“Listen, where there is no fear, there is no 
danger ! Look the wild beasts straight in 
the eyes, even as I am looking into yours. 
Be not afraid, and the dear God will help 
you.” 

“And I shall come back to you, Mother 
mine,” said the brave little Lionel. “When 
I get to the garden gate I shall think so much 
of you and dear Father, that I shall forget 
all else. I shall not be afraid of anything.” 

Then he covered her tear-stained cheeks 
with kisses, and hurried away in the early 
morning light. 


52 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


The road was rough and long across the 
steep mountain way, and the sharp stones 
cut the little Lionel's feet until they were 
bruised and sore, but still he climbed on 
and on, ever thinking of the loved ones he 
had left behind, and of their joy when by 
and by he should return with the healing 
water from the beautiful garden. 

After traveling many hours he at last 
reached the top of the mountain, climbed 
down the side into the cool valley below, 
and found himself in sight of the beautiful 
garden. 

But as he gazed in wonder on the waters 
of the shimmering lake in the distance, the 
deep growls of the wild beasts within the 
walls fell upon his ears, and for a moment 
the little Lionel was almost afraid, and felt 
like turning and fleeing back to the safe 
cottage home, beyond the mountain — the 
little home that seemed dearer to him, just 
now, than ever before. 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY 


53 


“Better run back! Better run back!” 
strange voices from the trees kept whispering. 

But just then, over the archway of the 
old stone gate, the little Lionel spelled out 
very slowly the words: 

“ P-e-r-f-e-c-t L-o-v-e C-a-s-t-e-t-h O-u-t A-l-1 
F-e-a-r.” 

Then, doubling up his small fists, he 
shook them at the voices in the trees and 
said : 

“Hush, I shall not go back ! You cannot 
frighten me. I love my father, and dragons 
and tigers and elephants shall not drive me 
back until I have filled my bottle with the 
healing water.” 

Then, standing on tiptoe, he lifted the 
rusty latch and stepped inside the beautiful 
garden. 

With a mighty roar the ugly dragon 
started toward him, but the little Lionel 
remembered his mother’s words, looked the 


54 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


great beast straight in the eye and passed 
him by unharmed. 

On and on he followed the winding circu- 
lar walk, never for a moment glancing 
behind, and just as he reached the second 
circle, with an angry growl the huge spotted 
tiger rushed at his throat. 

But again the little Lionel remembered 
his mother’s words, looked the great beast 
straight in the eye, and passed by him, — 
again unharmed. 

And now with a firmer tread he followed 
the broad gravel walk which led him into 
the third and last circle, where lay the 
wonderful enchanted lake. 

But just as he caught sight of its clear 
water sparkling like twinkling diamonds in 
the sunlight, with a roar that seemed to 
shake the very earth beneath him, the great 
powerful elephant dashed toward the little 
Lionel as if he would surely crush him to 
pieces ! 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY 55 


But no, no ! surely the dear God helped 
him then, for still he was unafraid, and, 
keeping his eyes on those of the great ele- 
phant, he passed on his way with a steady 
tread, not even glancing behind him — 
thinking only of the sick father, the anxious 
mother, and her last words to him. 

And now, only think, he stood at the 
brink of the enchanted lake, by the waters 
so clear that they reflected back the brave, 
sweet face of the boy who stooped to fill his 
bottle there. 

But the little Lionel did not linger you 
may be very sure, and when he had filled his 
bottle to the very brim with the healing 
water, he turned to go away, when lo ! a 
most wonderful thing indeed had happened. 

There was now no terrible elephant stand- 
ing in the pathway to destroy him, no dread- 
ful tiger, no hateful dragon, — none of these, 
— but in their places, strange, new flowers 
grew. 


56 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


The elephant was changed into a beautiful 
plant with leaves so large and cool and green 
that you would never think of them as being 
like an elephant at all — unless it were his 
very large ears. 

And in the second circle, where the dread- 
ful tiger had been, stood only an exquisite, 
crimson tiger lily, flecked with spots of 
black as soft and velvety as a tiger’s skin 
— you have seen the lily since, I know. 

And as he drew near to the old stone 
gateway, not a dragon did he see, but instead, 
a delicate, drooping blossom of dainty rose 
color, which has a mouth, to be sure, that 
can open and shut, but never bite. 

So the dragon flower and the crimson lily 
nodded their heads and wafted their fra- 
grance on the summer breeze as the boy 
passed on his way down the walk and 
through the old stone gateway. 

Such a happy, happy boy was the little 
Lionel now. 


ORIGIN OF THE TIGER LILY 57 


Birds sang from the tree tops, the sun- 
beams danced, and all the world seemed 
glad, and the song that the winds and waters 
sang seemed ever to be the same : 

“ Perfect Love Casteth Out All Fear.” 

And now, what need have I to tell you 
more of my story, — of the mother’s joy 
when her boy came back to her, of the sick 
father made well by the healing water, and 
of the brave little Lionel happiest of all ? 

There was no more fear of the beautiful 
garden. It was said that those who after- 
ward visited there were made glad because 
of the velvety, spotted lilies, the delicate 
dragon flowers and cool green leaves of the 
elephant-ears that were found in place of the 
frightful beasts, which were seen no more. 

And the healing water was free to all. 


CHAPTER VII 


WHY THE PERSIMMON TREE HAS ITS FRUIT 
IN THREE COLORS 

I HAVE already told you about the little 
pixie prince who had the ennui disease. 
Now the persimmon tree makes me 
think of a little brownie who had the meddler 
disease, and I must not forget to tell you 
about him. 

The meddler disease was considered by 
the fairies to be quite as bad as the ennui 
disease, though it was just the opposite kind 
of trouble. 

You see, while the ennui disease made you 
lie in bed and yawn all the time and wish 
to do nothing at all, the meddler disease kept 
you moving all the time, and always going 
into things that were none of your business. 


FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 


59 


The bees had already tried to teach this 
little brownie a lesson by leaving their sharp 
stings in his fingers for meddling with their 
honey. 

And the wasps had tried to teach him a 
lesson too, about meddling with their won- 
derfully-made house and tearing it down. 

It was said that even the billy-goat had 
taken a hand in trying to teach this little 
brownie to stop meddling with other people’s 
affairs, but he would not stop. 

By and by the orchard princess went to 
the queen of the fairies one night, and told 
her that someone — she knew not who — 
was meddling with the orchard trees. 

It was in the spring when all the trees 
were so busy trying to grow large luscious 
fruit. They had spent weeks and weeks 
nursing baby buds and blossoms into green 
fruit, and now, before they could ripen the 
fruit, ready to eat, the orchard princess 
found the baby pears, peaches, and plums 


6o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


lying all over the grass under the trees — each 
with the print of somebody’s tooth in it. 

When the fairy queen heard about the 
green fruit being pulled she was very sorry 
indeed. 

“The first thing to be done,” she said, “is 
to find out who it is that is troubling the 
trees. Have you any idea ? ” 

But the orchard fairy shook her head. “I 
think it must be the little brownie who has 
the meddler disease,” she replied, “but I 
am not sure.” 

“Then we will find out,” said the fairy 
queen. 

So calling two of her fairies to her, she 
changed one into a green caterpillar and 
the other into a blue bird and sent them 
into the orchard to watch. 

They had not w T atched very long when, 
sure enough, this very same little brownie 
with the meddler disease hopped over the 
orchard fence and began climbing the trees, 


FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 


61 


biting the fruit to see if it was ripe, and then 
throwing it on the ground. 

“And now,” said the fairy queen to the 
orchard princess, when she heard about it, 
“we must try and cure this little meddler 
brownie before he grows any worse, or he 
will spoil the fruit crop for the earth-children 
every year, and they will have neither pears, 
plums, nor apples to eat. Something must 
be done at once.” 

And so the queen and her fairies gathered 
together and talked and talked about the 
best way to cure the little brownie of his 
troublesome disease. 

Some of them thought it might be a gdod 
idea to let the spiders spin a web-bag all 
around him so he could n't get out to go to 
the trees. 

And others thought it would be a good 
thing to tie a block to his foot so he could 
not climb over the orchard fence. 

But the fairy queen is wiser than all the 


62 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


fairies, you know, so she shook her head at 
these plans and said : 

“No, I hardly think that will really cure 
the little brownie of his disease. We do not 
wish to tie him so he cannot go to the trees, 
but we want to manage so that he will not 
wish to meddle with the trees — that is the 
best cure,” said the fairy queen. 

She thought for a few moments longer, and 
then she smiled and said, “Come, I have 
a plan now. I had almost forgotten about a 
queer seed Old Mother Nature gave me 
the last time she was here — a persimmon 
seed which has never yet been planted on 
the earth. 

“This tree bears a fruit which will surely 
cure the little brownie if he dares eat it 
before it is ripe. We will plant it at once.” 

So, with a band of fairies dancing after 
her, the fairy queen led the way, and in 
the midst of the shady orchard trees they 
planted the queer persimmon seed. 


FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 


63 


Now as the queen wanted the tree to be 
growing in the orchard the next morning 
when the little meddler brownie visited 
the trees, she blew some of her magic 
fairy-dust over the spot where the seed 
had been planted, and a very wonderful 
thing happened. 

Up, up, up, the persimmon tree grew, 
taller and larger than any other tree in the 
orchard, with every limb full of fine, green 
fruit, larger than that on any other tree. 
And then the fairies tripped away. 

The next morning, when the little meddler 
brownie climbed over the fence, he saw the 
new tree the very first thing, and with a hop 
and a skip he ran towards it, singing : 

“Mi, mi, me, ne O! 

Why have n’t I seen that tree before ! w 

And then he pulled the biggest per- 
simmon he could find, popped it into his 
mouth and began to chew. 


64 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


It was a bitter dose, and the little brownie 
tried his best to spit it out, but the queer 
thing about it was that he could not spit 
it out, so there was nothing to do but to 
keep on chewing until it was all gone. 

And then when he had swallowed it, 
why, his mouth was all shrivelled up on 
the inside like an egg skin, and when he tried 
to straighten out the outside of his face, 
why, it seemed as if it had been frozen into 
shrivelled-up wrinkles, and try as he would, 
he could n’t straighten a single wrinkle out. 

So there he was with his mouth puckered 
inside, and the right side of his face all 
wrinkled outside. 

But the meddler disease is a hard disease 
to cure, and the very next morning the little 
brownie was back in the orchard as before, 
and when he saw the new tree again the 
green persimmons were no longer there, 
but in their place hung large, golden-yellow 
persimmons, as large and smooth as could be. 


FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 


65 


And again the little meddler brownie ran 
quickly across the grass to it, singing : 

“Mi, mi, me, ne O! 

Why have n’t I seen that fruit before ! ” 

And again he scrambled up the tree and 
popped a big yellow persimmon into his 
mouth. 

He thought because the persimmon was 
yellow it surely must be ripe. 

But the little brownie was very much 
mistaken indeed, for the dose was as bitter 
as the first, and spit it out he could not, so 
he had to chew and chew, as before, until 
it was all gone, and then , — why, the left 
side of his cheek was all shrivelled up too, 
inside and out, just as the right side had 
been. 

That was n’t any fun I can tell you, and 
though the little brownie smoothed and 
smoothed and tried his very best to straighten 
out his wrinkled face he could not do it, and 


5 


66 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


now he looked more like a shrivelled up 
potato than anything else. 

For the first time in his whole life the 
little brownie began to feel ashamed that he 
was such a foolish little meddlesome brownie, 
and he decided he would stop meddling with 
things that were not his ; then, as he did n’t 
know what else to do, he sat on the grass at 
the foot of the tree and began to cry. 

It was then that the orchard princess felt 
sorry for the miserable little brownie and 
came from behind the tree where she had 
been watching him all along. 

“Why are you crying, little brownie?” 
she asked. “Can I help you?” 

“Oh, if you would only straighten out 
my face ! ” cried the little brownie : 

“Mi, mi, me, ne O! 

I never was in such a fix before.” 

“I wish I could straighten your face for 
you,” replied the orchard princess, “but I 
cannot. I fear you have the meddler dis- 


FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 67 


ease, and it has settled in your face from 
eating green fruit. 

“Why do you meddle with things that 
are not yours ?” 

“Oh, I do not know,” said the little 
brownie, “but I never shall again. Tell me 
what will cure me, do please.” 

“A ripe persimmon is the only thing that 
can cure you and straighten out your face,” 
said the orchard princess. 

“The fruit you have been eating is from 
a tree sometimes called the meddler’s tree. 
Its fruit is first green, then yellow, and at 
last a beautiful orange-red. 

“It is only then that the fruit is fit to eat; 
so mellow and sweet are the luscious per- 
simmons then, that just one mouthful will 
part your lips into smiles. 

“But until that time when the persim- 
mons are full ripe will you have to wait for 
your face to be straightened out, — eat but 
one then and you shall be cured.” 


68 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 



Then, all in a twinkle, the orchard 
princess was gone. 

Well, it was a long weary time for the 
little brownie to wait, — with his face all 
shrivelled up too, — because persimmons 
do not ripen from yellow to orange-red until 
the frost fairies sprinkle their powder over 
them, and the frost fairies did not put them- 
selves out to hurry for a little meddlesome 
brownie, I can tell you. 

But while he did wait, the little brownie 
had plenty of time to learn his lesson well, 
and that pleased the fairy queen very 
much. 

He visited the orchard every day, to be 



FRUIT IN THREE COLORS 


69 


sure, but only to watch for the ripe orange- 
red persimmons, and not a time was the little 
brownie known to meddle with anything else. 

But one morning he was made very, very 
happy indeed, for when he awoke he found 
that the frost fairies had surprised him in 
the night and sprinkled their white powder 
everywhere. 

How the little brownie did skip and hop 
to the tree, singing: 

“Mi, mi, me, ne, O, 

Never was I so happy before!” 


And sure enough, the tree hung full of 
luscious ripe persimmons, of orange-red, 
and when the little brownie pulled and ate 
one it was so sweet and delicious, why, the 
little brownie laughed out loud, and all in 
a twinkle — 

He was cured of the ugly meddler disease! 

And how glad he was to have his face 
straightened out once more ! 


70 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


So now you know why the persimmon 
tree has her fruit in three colors — green, 
yellow, and orange- red. It is the way she 
has of fooling meddlers. 

Were you ever fooled ? 


CHAPTER VIII 


FLOWER PIXIES 

S ometimes i try to think which i 

like the best, — fairies or brownies 
or pixies. 

Sometimes I say fairies, because they can 
change themselves into anything they please. 
And sometimes I say brownies, because 
they are so very funny. And then, again, I 
say pixies, because they are so very small 
they can live in the flowers. 

And so I really cannot tell which I do like 
best. 

But one thing I know, and that is, the 
pixies have a very good chance to find out 
where the good children live, because their 
little flower houses are so often pulled and 
put into vases, right in the very room where 
the children play, you see. 


72 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Now pixies really enjoy having their 
flower houses pulled and carried into the 
children’s homes, if only people remembered 
to pull the flowers with long stems, so that 
they may have no fear of dropping into the 
water when their flower houses are placed 
in vases to keep them fresh. 

Now there was a little pixie once who 
wandered back to fairyland with every thread 
of his pretty silken clothes dripping wet. 

He said a little boy had pulled his pansy 
house while he was beneath the velvet petals 
fast asleep. And the little boy had not only 
pulled his house with a very short stem, but 
had actually dropped him down into a great , 
large rose jar, instead of a small pansy 
vase, and when the little pixie waked up, 
why, he was floating around on the top of 
the water, and his white velvet suit, and his 
violet sash and cap, and his white slippers 
were spoiled and dripping wet. 

He tried his best to scramble up the 



THEN FROM EVERY PRETTY FLOWER A PIXIE JUMPED ” Page 76 



FLOWER PIXIES 


75 


smooth side of the rose jar, but he slipped 
back every time until a dear little girl, who 
must have seen him, lifted the pansy up 
out of the jar, and placed it in a pretty, 
little blue vase. And the little pixie skipped 
out of the window as fast as ever he could, 
and hurried off to fairyland to get a new 
suit of clothes. 

But he did n’t forget about the little girl 
who helped him out of the jar. Her name 
was Princess Wee, — because she was little, 
and because she was kind and good like a 
real princess. All of the pixies loved her 
and wanted to do something for her because 
she had helped the little pansy pixie out 
of the water. 

“To-morrow is the little Princess Wee’s 
birthday,” said the pansy pixie, flying from 
flower to flower, with his new, blue velvet 
clothes on. “I heard her mother say so, and 
she is coming into the woods to gather wild 
flowers. Let us all watch for her.” 


76 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“Oh, you have the days mixed up,” said 
a little daisy pixie, in white silk suit and 
yellow sash. “ I can see her coming across 
the grass now. What a light, quick step 
she has, — what soft white hands ! ” 

Then all the tiny flower pixies laughed 
with joy, waving gayly to her from their 
flower homes, and throwing kisses, — one, 
two, three, — as on she passed. 

“Come, pull our blossom homes,” they 
cried; “we know your hands are gentle, 
and you pull long stems. Stay and play 
with us in happy pixie land.” 

So the little Princess Wee smiled with 
joy at their kind invitation, and seated her- 
self on a flowery bank with her lap full of 
clovers and daisies and shy, wild violets. 

Then from every pretty flower a pixie 
jumped, and catching hands they danced 
gayly round the little Princess ‘Wee, their 
sashes of brown and purple and yellow 
fluttering in the breeze. Pixies always 


FLOWER PIXIES 


77 


wear sashes and slippers to match the 
colors of the flowers in which they live. 

Oh, but it is a beautiful sight to watch 
these pixies dance round and round a pixie 
ring ! Anyone who has sharp eyes can find 
the print of their tiny feet in the woods, going 
round and round in the circle. 

So swiftly and so lightly did they trip 
around the Princess Wee that she fell fast 
asleep while watching them. And then each 
little pixie placed his fingers to his lips, and 
the daisy pixies said, “Hush, she is asleep ! 
We will be very quiet and let her rest.” 

Then they fanned her cheeks with per- 
fumed flower petals, and some of them 
hurried away and found a great, big toad- 
stool umbrella, and placed it over the 
Princess Wee’s head, so that the sunshine 
might not waken her. 

“Come,” said the clover-blossom pixies, 
“we will gather ferns and leaves and make 
a coverlet for her feet too, so that she may 


78 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


not catch a cold while sleeping in pixie 
land.” 

“And, oh!” whispered the pansy pixie, 
“let us make a surprise for her when she 
awakes. Let us make the little Princess 
Wee a play-house.” 

“Yes, let ’s do!” said the violet pixies. 
“We will build it all around her while she 
sleeps.” 

And so they did. With pink shells and 
smooth, white pebbles they marked off the 
rooms, and in every room they placed a 
carpet of soft green moss, fit for a princess 
to tread upon, and there were gray granite 
stones with mossy cushions too, which made 
delightful chairs. 

And then the pixies peeped beneath the 
toadstool-umbrella, but still the pretty blue 
eyes of the princess were closed and her 
lips were parted in a smile — perhaps she 
dreamed of the pixies, who knows ? 

“Come,” said the violet pixie, “we have 


FLOWER PIXIES 


79 


made the play-house, but where are the 
playthings? Perhaps she would like a doll 
and a tea-party.” 

4 ‘Yes, yes!” replied the daisy pixies, 
“and a large, flat rock will do for the table. 
Let us search for dishes, — where shall we 
find them ? Hurry, before she wakes !” 

Then up the tall oak trees they scam- 
pered to find the largest acorns, whose caps 
made beautiful saucers for green acorn 
cups scooped out by the pixies, — as smooth 
and delicate as the finest china. 

Nasturtium leaves were round like plates, 
and matched the cups and saucers; and 
beneath the roots of the heartleaves they 
searched for dainty, hidden brown pitchers, 
which held fresh water, cool and sweet. 

The bees gave honey for the party, and 
there was pixie cake and fruit and candy, 
made from pollen and nectar juice. But 
where was the doll, if it was to be a doll- 
party ? 


8o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


The violet pixies looked at the daisy 
pixies and the daisy pixies looked at the 
clover pixies, — but only for a moment ; 
then they all scampered off to the fields of 
waving corn and found, oh, so many little 
corn babies, with long silken dresses and 
charming little faces which the pixies marked 
themselves — eyes and nose and mouth. 

And only guess what they made from the 
corn stalks ! Doll beds and doll chairs and 
doll cradles ! 

Surely these would make Princess Wee 
clap her hands in joy. 

And when they came back, — yes, the 
princess was rubbing her eyes, and when 
she sat up and looked around, she opened 
her eyes very wide, because she was so sur- 
prised to see such a beautiful play-house 
built all round her, and a doll-party, and 
all the corn-silk babies waiting for her at 
the table. 

So Princess Wee sat at the head and held 


FLOWER PIXIES 


81 


the smallest baby, and poured fresh water 
from the heartleaf pitchers, and drank 
from the tiny acorn cups, and ate pixie 
cake and fruit and candy from dainty green 
leaf plates. 

Now was n’t that a beautiful birthday 
party that the flower pixies gave to the Prin- 
cess Wee, because she was so kind and good? 


6 


CHAPTER IX 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 

O NE bright, sunshiny morning all 
the leaves on the tall poplar tree 
waked up in a bad humor. 

I ’m sure I cannot tell just why, because 
the dew fairies had given them their bath, 
and the sunbeam fairies had dried them 
off, and the good mother tree had given them 
all a breakfast of fresh, sweet sap, which 
she herself had made for them. 

But still the leaves were cross and un- 
happy, and with pouting lips and downcast 
eyes they stood stiff and still as they clung 
to the branches of the mother tree. 

The little tree fairy was the first to notice 
it. 

She lived in the branches of the tall poplar 
tree, and it made her very unhappy to see 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 83 


the cross ill temper of her playmates, the 
leaves. 

She asked them what the trouble was 
and if she could help them. But not one 
word would any of the leaves say. They 
only poked out their pouting lips and stood 
stiffer and crosser than ever before, even 
refusing to wave a good morning to their 
kind, little fairy friend. 

No fairy likes to live with anyone who is 
cross and crabbed, you know, so this little 
tree fairy flew away, as fast as she could go, 
to Cloudland, where she could find more 
pleasant company I suppose. 

The little sunbeam fairies were busy 
making a silver lining for the big black 
cloud, and hardly had time to look up from 
their work when the tree fairy entered. 

“Oh,” said the little tree fairy, “what a 
beautiful silver lining you are working on ! 
I wish I could make some silver linings for 
the little poplar leaves ! 


84 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“They are so cross to-day and I want to 
make them happy.” 

“We will be glad to help,” said the little 
sunbeam fairies. “Come, and we will 
teach you how to make a silver lining ! ” 

So the little tree fairy sat down and, 
threading her needle with a golden thread, 
was soon busy making a silver lining for 
every little leaf on the tall poplar tree, — 
and just to the pattern of their green 
dresses. 

By nightfall she had finished every one 
and the little sunbeam fairies went with 
her to fit them on. 

But the little poplar leaves were fast 
asleep and did not know when the fairies 
fitted their pretty silver linings, and when 
they waked up next morning, why, they 
still did not know, because they were too 
stiff and cross to look, and sat as still as 
ever without even smiling a good-morning 
to anyone. 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 85 


Of course it made the little tree fairy 
very sad to find that the poplar leaves were 
not glad after she had worked so very hard 
to make them each a silver lining. 

But she could not, she just could not 
live with little leaves that were always 
cross, you know. So off she flew again to 
Cloudland to find someone who would help 
her get the leaves in a good humor once 
more. 

This time she went to the rainbow fairies 
and asked them if they could tell her what 
to do. 

“It must be very sad,” said the rainbow 
fairies, “ to have to live with anyone who is 
always cross. We made a beautiful rain- 
bow yesterday, across the sky where we 
were sure the poplar leaves could see it, 
but we think they did not even look. We 
are sure they did not smile. Why not tell 
the Storm King ? He will blow them away 
in a twinkle.” 


86 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“Oh, but I do not wish them blown 
away,” sighed the little tree fairy. “I only 
want to make them happy again. I like 
to see them laugh and dance and sing the 
soft little songs they know. I miss them 
so when they are stiff and cross ! 

“If only they would look at the pretty 
silver linings I have made for them, I ’m 
sure that would make them smile again.” 

“Well, we don’t know what to tell you 
to do about it,” said the rainbow fairies, 
“unless you are willing to go to Zephyr 
Castle where the tickle fairies live. A 
tickle fairy can make anything in the world 
laugh.” 

Now Zephyr Castle belonged to the great 
Storm King. It was the nursery where he 
kept the soft baby winds that had never 
grown up strong and fierce enough to go 
out with him on his visits to the earth 
world. 

The little tree fairy was afraid of this 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 87 


great Storm King, because she had seen 
him blow away tall trees and large houses 
— he might blow down the poplar tree, she 
thought, if he knew about the cross leaves. 
That would ruin her pretty bower, and 
besides, the poplar leaves would wither 
and die. 

So, with bowed head, she turned sorrow- 
fully away from the rainbow palace and 
started towards the earth-world again. 

As she was walking on her w T ay, the 
little tree fairy passed a great high cloud 
mountain, and stopped to listen, for, from 
a cave in the side of the mountain she heard 
music, wonderful and grand. 

It sounded like a great wind organ, and 
its thundering tones rolled full and deep, then 
growing fainter and fainter and soft and low 
like the good-night carol of evening birds. 

The little tree fairy was so charmed as 
she listened to the echoing tones that she 
crept closer and closer to the wonderful 


88 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


music, and the first thing she knew she found 
herself standing right in the very doorway of 
the great cloud mountain where lived the 
Storm King, — and it was the Storm King 
himself, playing in his great concert hall ! 

A wonderful king he was, — large and 
strong, with great broad shoulders, and 
hair and beard long and white like the 
driven snow. His cheeks were red and firm, 
and his eyes, the most wonderful of all, 
were bright and sparkling, yet deep and 
calm, — places where dreams like to lie. 

The little tree fairy looked and listened, — 
she could not feel afraid of one like that, — 
and standing with uplifted head she waited 
until the Storm King had finished playing 
and closed his wonderful organ. 

Then he turned and held out his hand 
to the little tree fairy, as though he knew 
she had been standing near, and asked her 
what it was that made her sad. 

“It is because of the leaves on the tall 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 89 


poplar tree,” she said; “they are so very 
cross and stiff I cannot bear to live with 
them. 

“I have made them each a silver lining 
for their dress, but they have been too 
cross even to look at them, and I am afraid, 
if I live with those who are always cross, 
I myself might grow cross too.” 

And then a crystal tear stole down the 
cheek of the little tree fairy. 

“Ah, I see,” said the great Storm King, 
drawing the little tree fairy close to his 
side. “I see. Of course you do not want 
to grow cross, my child, — that would be 
sad, indeed. For I have never heard of a 
cross fairy of any kind, and it must be very 
unpleasant, above all, for a little fairy to 
live, day after day, with someone who is 
always cross. 

“And so you believe that I can help you ? 

“Have you not heard, little one, that I, 
the great Storm King, am very powerful? 


go OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


So strong that my very breath bends trees 
and snaps them off like a thread, uproots 
and casts them crushed and broken to the 
ground ? That I scatter houses like paper 
and straws — that mortal men flee from 
me, and hide from the lightning I hold in 
my hand ? 

“Hast thou not heard?” 

“Yes,” replied the little tree fairy, softly, 
“all of this have I heard, and I know that 
you are powerful and strong. But you are 
gentle too, and your heart is always kind, 
— your music tells me so. I know that you 
can help me if you will.” 

“And I will,” said the great Storm 
King, patting the little tree fairy gently on 
the head. “I will, because you believe. 

“Go back to thy home in the tree, little 
fairy, and all shall be well with thee. I 
promise the leaves shall never be cross 
again, for I shall give the baby Zephyrs 
charge concerning them, and morning, noon, 


WHY THE LEAVES SHAKE 


9i 


and night their merry little sides shall shake 
with laughter. I, the great Storm King, 
promise this. 

“And why? Because of thy love, little 
one. Love is ever stronger than force. 
Go now, thy wish is granted thee.” 

And so it was as the great Storm King 
said, for when the little fairy reached the 
tall poplar tree again, the tickle fairies 
from Zephyr Castle had been there ahead 
of her, and with their slender fingers, 
dipped in laughter dust, had flown in and 
out among the leaves — thousands of tiny, 
tiny Zephyr fairies — and how they did 
tickle those leaves ! 

They tickled and tickled and tickled, 
and you should have seen those poplar 
leaves laugh ! 

Pouting lips went in and dimpled smiles 
came out, and the little leaves began to 
shake, and they laughed and laughed and 
laughed, until some of them tied themselves 


92 


OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


in double bow-knots and rolled upon the 
ground, and others turned themselves wrong 
side up, and — then , they saw their silver 
linings, which the little tree fairy had made 
for them, and that tickled them so, why, 
they laughed all over again ! 

And then the leaves on all the other 
trees caught the laughing spell, and they, 
too, shook with laughter, and together 
they laughed and laughed and laughed, — 
all the leaves in all the trees shaking with 
laughter until the whole world caught their 
joy and echoed it back. 

And don’t you know the little tree fairy 
was very, very happy ? 

The great Storm King has never since 
forgotten his promise, because as you your- 
self may see, the Zephyr fairies are always 
busy tickling the leaves and sprinkling 
laughter dust, and all little leaves have long 
ago forgotten how to be cross or sad. 


CHAPTER X 


THE ORIGIN OF PUSSY WILLOWS 

I T seems that the fairies are always on 
the lookout for kind deeds, and when- 
ever they find one they like to change 
it into something beautiful for the earth- 
children. 

Now it was the small baby willow that 
asked the big mother willow tree why it 
was she bore such lovely, soft gray pussies 
on her branches each spring. 

And the mother willow replied: “There 
is always a reason, little one, for everything 
beautiful, and the reason why willows have 
pussies, so soft and gray, is because of a 
kind deed a willow tree did once, long ago. 
I will tell you about it.” 

Then she told this story : — 


94 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“ The willow tree that did this kind deed 
grew on the bank of a deep river and her 
wide-spreading branches almost swept the 
surface of the water. 

“ One morning, while she was busy car- 
ing for her baby buds and new leaves, she 
heard rapid footsteps, and in another mo- 
ment she saw a boy rush down to the edge 
of the river and throw something into the 
water with a great splash ! Then he was 
off again as quickly as he had come. 

“ Now what do you suppose the big wil- 
low tree saw floating and struggling in the 
water, just beneath the shade of her limbs ? 

“ Three of the softest, prettiest, gray kit- 
tens that anyone ever saw. 

“ They were just about the color of blue 
curling smoke, and each one wore a pair 
of fuzzy, silver-gray mittens, with the 
daintiest of little pink cushions tucked 
underneath. 


“Just as the willow tree was wondering 


ORIGIN OF PUSSY WILLOWS 95 


what to do about it, she heard something 
else come flying down the path, jumping 
over bushes and stumps and scattering the 
dry leaves in her pathway as she ran. 

“ It was the mother of the dear little soft 
gray pussies, and when she reached the 
river’s edge and saw her own baby kittens 
struggling in the deep water, she jumped 
right in, with a great splash, and tried her 
best to save their lives. 

“ Poor baby pussies ! the water was get- 
ting into their pretty blue eyes and running 
into their noses and ears and mouths, and 
in a very few minutes they most surely 
would have been dead, had it not been for 
the kindness of the big willow tree. 

‘“Quick, oh, quick!’ she cried, bending 
her branches low over the water’s edge. 
‘Catch my limbs, hold tight, and I will 
hold you above the water.’ 

“And then, one by one, the mother cat 
and her three baby kittens were caught up 


g6 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


by the strong branches of the willow and 
held tight, until the brave mother cat 
brought each half drowned kitten safely 
to the shore. 

“ In the snug hollow of the big willow tree 
she made them a bed and soon licked them 
all dry with the queer pink towel mother 
cats carry around in their mouths. 

“ The baby kittens seemed to like their 
new home very much, and in a few hours 
were as well and happy as ever. 

“ Perhaps they thought it was better to 
live in the woods with a kind willow tree 
than in a house with an unkind earth-child. 
I know the mother cat believed this, be- 
cause she did not try to carry her kittens 
away, but began to make herself at home 
as they did. 

“The willow tree was very glad of this 
and she enjoyed watching the baby kittens. 

“They grew fatter and plumper and 
rounder every day, and their mother was 


ORIGIN OF PUSSY WILLOWS 97 


kept busy trying to raise them in just the 
right way. 

“ She showed them their soft, silver-gray 
mittens and told them how to keep them 
washed clean with their long, pink tongues. 

“ And she showed them their sharp little 
claws and told them how to use them and 
how to say “sput-t!” and how to arch 
their gray backs when anything came to 
frighten them. 

“ So every day the baby kittens grew 
smarter. They even learned to climb to 
the very top of the big willow tree, and 
would sometimes curl up on her branches 
for a morning nap, — tiny little balls of 
silver-gray fuzz they seemed to be. 

“ It was then the willow tree loved them 
most, and the more she watched them 
asleep in her branches, the more she wanted 
some like them for her very own — some 
who would always stay with her and never 
run away. 


7 


98 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“ How the fairy queen did laugh when 
she heard of this wish ! It seemed so very 
queer that a tree should want silver-gray 
pussies. 

“ But she had also heard about the kind 
deed of the big willow tree in saving the 
lives of the little gray kittens and their 
mother too ; so, waving her jewelled wand 
over the willow tree, she sang : — 

“‘Willow fair, dear willow fair. 

Silver gray pussies shalt thou bear, 

Because thy heart is kind and true. 

This thy wish I grant to you.’ 

44 And so it was and always has been 
since. 

“Every spring the willow tree and all of 
her kindred are decked with soft fuzzy 
pussies of silver gray, — and even though 
you frighten them they never run away.” 


CHAPTER XI 


WHY VIOLETS HAVE GOLDEN HEARTS 

O NCE in the long ago, there was 
a most beautiful garden where 
flowers of every kind grew. There 
were stately hollyhocks and fresh white 
daisies and roses and violets and pansies 
and hyacinths and poppies and every other 
kind of flower that you ever dreamed or 
thought about. 

Early one morning, when the bees and 
butterflies went to pay their morning calls, 
they found all the flowers in a perfect 
flutter of excitement. 

A strange knight had passed through 
the garden the evening before and left 
word for every flower that the king of the 
garden was coming soon on a visit, and to 


100 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


the most beautiful flower he would bring 
a golden heart. 

“To the most beautiful one was the 
message,” nodded the crimson rose, press- 
ing her baby buds close to her side. 

“To the most beautiful one,” rang out 
the lily bells, sweet and clear. “We heard, 
we heard !” 

“To the most beautiful one,” whispered 
the violets, bending their heads in prayer. 

“Yes, yes,” chimed in the snowdrops, 
one by one; “to the most beautiful one. 
We heard the message clearly. 

“But who can be more beautiful than 
we, with our dresses of spotless white ? 

“Surely the king will choose us, and for 
his coming we shall save all our sweetest 
nectar juice, all our pollen, all that we 
have we shall save for him who is our 
king.” 

Thus talked the flowers together in 
the garden. Of course, everyone wanted 


VIOLETS WITH GOLDEN HEARTS ioi 


the golden heart, and everyone began to 
work, trusting and hoping that its blossom 
might be the most beautiful one. 

Now in those days, snowdrops held their 
heads up, and not down, as now, — neither 
did they have green spots on their dresses 
then. They were snowy white, and now 
that the king was coming, they thought so 
much more about their beautiful white 
dresses that they seemed to forget that 
it was better to be beautiful on the inside 
than on the outside. 

They even forgot — these snowdrops — 
to be kind to their best friends, the bees and 
butterflies, and refused to give them either 
pollen or nectar juice. 

And again they forgot to say good-morn- 
ing to their other friends, the lovely violets, 
growing so close to them and making the 
breath of the whole garden fragrant with 
their perfume. 

Indeed, the violets thought so much about 


102 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


making perfume for others that they forgot 
all about themselves, and even the color of 
their dresses. 

But the days passed quickly in the old 
garden, and it soon became a bower of 
glory indeed, as flower vied with flower to 
become the most beautiful, when the king 
should come. 

The morning-glories hung out joy-bells 
of white and pink and blue, climbing to the 
top of the garden wall that they might be 
first to tell the news that the king had come. 

The trumpet vine climbed yet higher, 
even to the top of the tallest tree, that he 
might be first to see and welcome the king. 

But the snowdrops only stood still and 
fretted. “See,” they cried, “our dresses are 
losing their freshness and the nectar juice 
will be spoiled Listen, do you not hear 
footsteps ? ” 

Yes, someone was coming down the path, 
but it was only a wrinkled old woman, 


VIOLETS WITH GOLDEN HEARTS 103 


feeble and worn with the heat of the summer 
day. 

As she passed slowly along, her eyes fell 
on the pure white snowdrops, and stretching 
her hands towards them, she said: 

“Oh, you beautiful blossoms, can you 
not spare me one ?” 

“No, no ! we have none to spare to-day,” 
replied the snowdrops; “go away and 
come some other day. We are saving 
these for our king. Ask the violets close 
by. They can spare you some.” 

“Yes, yes,” nodded the violets; “we 
would love to give you some. Take all 
you please. See, our bed is full, — enough 
for you and enough for our king.” 

And as the old woman stooped to gather 
the purple violets, her face seemed very 
fair to look upon. 

“To-morrow, surely to-morrow the king 
will come,” fretted the snowdrops; “we 
have waited so long !” 


io 4 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


But when the next day came, there was 
only a little bird with a broken wing that 
passed that way. Faint from hunger, he 
fell in the sand near the snowdrops and 
begged for just one tiny seed. 

“No, no!” again said the snowdrops, 
“we have none to spare. Come some 
other day ; we are saving these for our 
king.” 

“Take ours,” cried the voice of the 
violets close by; “take ours, pretty bird, 
we have plenty to spare.” 

And the wounded bird ate and hopped 
away, and again his face seemed beautiful 
to look upon. 

It was night, and the breezes were just 
lulling the flowers to sleep when another 
visitor stopped by the side of the snowdrops. 
But they sighed and turned their heads 
away, for this time there was only a crippled 
frog with an ugly bruise on his head. 

“Water, only one drop of water, pretty 


VIOLETS WITH GOLDEN HEARTS 105 


snowdrops !” the frog said. “Your cups 
are full with sweetest nectar juice. Give to 
me, for I am dying with thirst.” 

But again the snowdrops shook their 
heads and turned away. “No, no!” they 
cried; “go away, ugly frog. We need our 
water to keep our dresses white, for the 
king is coming this way.” 

“Here is ours,” called the violets sweet. 
“It is fresh and pure. Drink, tired frog, and 
rest among our cooling leaves.” 

And then something wonderful indeed 
happened. The frog vanished from sight, 
and in his place stood the king of the garden 
himself, clothed in gold and royal purple* 
and in his hands he held a shower of golden 
hearts which fell among the violets and 
lodged lovingly beneath their fragrant 
petals. 

Then turning to the snowdrops, who had 
hung their heads in shame, the king said: 

“Spotted like thy heart, oh, snowdrops, 


io6 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


thy dresses shall become, and when on them 
thou dost look, think and remember: 

“ Beautiful flowers are those that do, 

Deeds that are loving, kind, and true, 

The long day through. 

“Footsore and weary, I asked of you; 
hungry, I came to you; thirsty, I begged 
of you ; but you turned me away.” 

“We did not know, we did not know,” 
sobbed the snowdrops. “Come, we have 
saved all for thee.” 

But alas ! it was too late, for the king of 
the garden had come and gone, — leaving 
the snowdrops with spotted clothes and 
heads bowed low in the moonlight. 


CHAPTER XII 


ORIGIN OF THE BROWN-EYED SUSANS 



l HE RE was once a little red dwarf 


named Evil Eye, who lived within 


the heart of the blossoms on the 
poison-oak vine. 

It was said by all the fairies that this vine 
had never become poisonous until Evil Eye 
chose it for his home, and it was his breath 
that really poisoned the vine so that the 
earth-children are afraid even to touch its 
leaves to-day. 

His breath was poisonous, of course, 
because his heart was evil; and some said 
Evil Eye had once gotten a piece of the 
wicked giant’s black glass in his eye, and 
ever since that time his eyes could see only 
the ugly, crooked things in life, and never 
anything beautiful. 


io8 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


That was very sad I can tell you. Even 
the flowers looked ugly to Evil Eye. The 
beautiful birds, the trees and water, the ferns 
and daisies, and the blue, blue sky — all 
seemed ugly to Evil Eye. 

But that was not all, for there was some- 
thing about him even sadder than that — 
every little girl or boy who was touched by 
Evil Eye became poisonous too, and could 
see only ugly things, as he did, and never 
anything beautiful. 

They would begin at once to fight and 
quarrel and snarl like the little street dogs, 
and that would please Evil Eye very much, 
because if he could blow his breath into their 
faces then — why the little girl or the little 
boy was changed at once into a little black 
street dog, and ran growling and snarling 
through the streets. And, — it was said, — 
his evil breath had already changed more 
than one little boy and one little girl into 
snarling dogs. 


ORIGIN OF BROWN-EYED SUSANS 109 


Now the king of the country had heard 
about Evil Eye and sent his soldiers out 
many times to see if they could capture him 
and lock him up in his dungeon, because 
he was causing so much trouble in the 
land. 

But, though the soldiers tried their best, 
they could never capture Evil Eye. This 
was because of the invisible cap he carried 
around with him, and when he chose to wear 
it, why, no one could see him ! — not even 
with a spy glass. 

Now the king had a little girl, the 
Princess Susan, whom he loved better 
than anything in his kingdom, and no 
wonder, since she was as good as she 
was beautiful. 

Her hands were kind, her lips were kind, 
and her eyes saw only the beautiful, so that 
not only the king himself but everyone 
loved the little Princess Susan, with her 
long, golden hair and sparkling, brown eyes 


no OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


and rosy, dimpled cheeks. She, somehow, 
reminded everyone of a flower, perhaps 
because she was so pure and sweet. 

But I forgot just now when I said every- 
one loved her. I should have said, every- 
one loved her but one, and you can guess 
who that one was. 

Yes, it was Evil Eye. He hated the little 
princess and her father too, and he tried and 
tried to blow his breath upon the little 
Princess Susan, because he knew it would 
grieve the king, and then, too, he wished 
to change the little princess into a snarling, 
snapping dog. 

But how could that be? Anyone that is 
pure and sweet inside could never be 
changed into a snarling, snapping dog. It 
is only those with an evil eye that could be 
changed into anything ugly. 

Anyway, Evil Eye could not see this, so 
he kept on trying and trying to get close 
enough to the little golden-haired princess 


ORIGIN OF BROWN-EYED SUSANS hi 


to touch and blow his breath into her face, 
and one day the chance came. 

The king was in the palace gardens 
playing “hide-and-seek” with the little 
princess, and as she ran to hide behind a 
tree, Evil Eye slipped quickly up, and with 
one puff his poisonous breath touched the 
fair cheek of the Princess Susan, whom 
everyone loved, — and what do you think 
happened ? 

No, no, no ! never was she changed into 
a snarling little dog, but when the king ran 
up to the tree to find her, there was no little 
princess at all. She was changed, right 
before his eyes, into a beautiful yellow 
flower, with sunny petals like gold, and a 
center of dark, rich brown, — just like the 
little girl’s eyes. 

Well, of course the king was very sorrow- 
ful, for while he loved beautiful new flowers, 
he loved his golden-haired daughter better, 
and for days and days he sat by the dainty, 


1 12 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 



yellow flower in the hope that it would 
change again into his own little girl. 

But no change came, except that the 
flower was busy making its seeds and pollen 
dust and dancing in the sunshine and 
nodding to the breeze and calling to the 
butterflies to taste of its nectar juice. 

So, you see, even as a flower the 
little Princess Susan was loving and 
kind. 

At last the king sent for the 
queen of the fairies to see if 
anything could be done, and 
it was then that he learned 
that Evil Eye had become 


ORIGIN OF BROWN-EYED SUSANS 113 


blind, after blowing his breath into the face 
of the little brown-eyed princess, and that 
he had gone back to the poisonous oak 
vine, afraid to stir from its shade. 

So you see, Evil Eye had come to sorrow, 
as all evil people do some day. 

Now the queen of the fairies felt very 
sorry for the king, and she said to him: 

“Cheer up, there is still hope for the little 
princess. Now that Evil Eye is blind, he is 
very anxious for another pair of eyes, and we 
must get them for him, — eyes that are pure 
and true, eyes that look only for the good 
and the beautiful in everything. 

“If this can be done, Evil Eye will see 
the great wrong he has done the little 
Princess Susan, and will be only too glad to 
change her back again to her real self.” 

Now do you know, I believe the fairy 
queen could have changed the little princess 
back herself, — because a fairy queen can 
do anything, you know. But I rather think 
8 


1 1 4 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


she did not want to do it herself. She 
wanted Evil Eye to right the wrong that he 
had done, because that was best for him, 
you see, and would change him from an evil 
dwarf into a good dwarf. 

Well, the king found out it was no easy 
matter to find anyone who would be willing 
to give his eyes to the little red dwarf. 

Eyes are so very precious that no one 
likes to part with them, especially if they 
are good and pure, so it seemed the little 
Princess Susan was ever to remain a flower 
after all. 

But at last someone was found, and guess, 
if you can, who it was ? 

Not the fairy queen, — far from it ! 

It was only a little worm who had spent 
his life in the king’s garden, plowing the 
earth soft about the plants and doing his 
best to help them grow. 

He liked to look on the bright colored 
flowers, and the soft, white clouds, and the 


ORIGIN OF BROWN-EYED SUSANS 115 


dancing sunbeams, — they were very beauti- 
ful to him. 

But if he could make the king happy and 
give the little Princess Susan back to him, why, 
that would be greater joy, don’t you think? 

And so the little worm gave his kind, pure 
eyes to the red dwarf, Evil Eye, and sure 
enough, just as the fairy queen had said, no 
sooner had Evil Eye got his new eyes, than 
he began to do kind things right straight 
away, and the very first thing he did was to 
change the dear little princess back to her 
real self once more. 

But the pretty brown-eyed Susans we still 
find blooming in old-fashioned flower yards, 
reminding us of the little Princess Susan 
and the very kind little worm, who, since 
he has no eyes, and cannot see, still works 
away beneath the damp ground, plowing 
about the flower roots and helping to make 
the world beautiful for others to see. 


CHAPTER XIII 


WHY THE SWEET LABURNUM COMES FIRST 
IN THE SPRING 

T WO little seeds were talking together 
one day about being planted. 

“I do not think it would be nice 
to be planted at all,” said one little seed. 
“Think of being covered over in the dark, 
cold ground like that ! It must be dreadful.” 

“You make me think of the very first seed 
that ever was planted,” said old Mother 
Nature, with one of her sunny smiles. 

“There is always somebody who must be 
the first to do things, no matter how un- 
pleasant they are, and it always takes some- 
body who is strong and brave. 

“Now the sweet laburnum was a plant of 
that kind, — she showed others the way, and 


SWEET LABURNUM IN SPRING 117 


to-day you will find her frail, yellow blossoms 
the first to greet us in the early spring, often 
blooming in old-fashioned flower gardens 
when the sleet and snow are on the ground. 
Her story is a pretty one, and runs thus : — 
“Long, long ago there was a time when 
on the earth there bloomed no flowers at all. 
There were no lacy ferns, no waving grasses, 
no trees, no blossoms, no growing plants of 
any kind. Everything was bare and brown. 

“And, of course, all the birds and flitting 
butterflies and dusky moths and tiny ants 
and other insects were dying of hunger and 
thirst, because they could not live, you know, 
without something green and growing. 

“The Prince of the Kingdom of Love 
heard of this suffering and went to the 
earth himself to see what the trouble was. 

“After walking for miles along barren 
fields and bare roads, with no sign of any- 
thing green and beautiful along the way, he 
at last reached a large store house, the floors 


n8 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


and shelves of which were covered with 
seeds of every growing plant under the sun. 

“ Seeds, seeds, seeds ! nothing but seeds 
everywhere, and every little seed lying fast 
asleep. 

“‘Why, little seeds,’ said the Prince of 
Love, ‘how can you lie here asleep when 
the outside world is dying for your help? 
You are needed to clothe the fields for hun- 
gry cattle, to deck the trees, to make the 
flowers, to feed the hungry, and shelter the 
weak. 

‘“How can you sleep ? Why lie you idle 
here ? ’ 

“‘Because we are afraid,’ said the seeds, 
whom the voice had awakened. ‘We 
would like to make the world beautiful and 
help those who hunger and thirst, but we 
cannot bear the idea of being buried be- 
neath the ground first in order to do this. 

‘“It is so cold and dark under the ground. 
Can you not change us into flowering plants 


SWEET LABURNUM IN SPRING 119 


now, as here we lie, without having to bury 
us beneath the ground? Then we would 
gladly grow to brighten the earth.’ 

“Then the Prince of Love was very sor- 
rowful indeed, because he knew how impos- 
sible this would be. No seed can become 
a fresh, growing plant without first being 
buried beneath the ground. Everyone 
knows this. 

“So, turning his kind eyes on the little 
seed nearest him, the Prince of Love said : 

“‘Could you not, little seed, forget your 
sleep in the cold, dark earth and remem- 
ber only the glad awakening ? 

“‘Would you rather lie here in your 
rough, brown body covered with dust and 
decay, rather than sleep in the earth for a 
season and come forth changed into a living, 
growing plant crowned with fresh, green 
leaves and glorious blossoms? Only think 
of that glad awakening !’ 

“Now the little seed, which was that of the 


120 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


sweet laburnum, had no answer ready for 
the Prince of Love ; but when he had gone 
away she thought and thought about his 
words, and the more she thought the more 
she felt that she would like to change her- 
self into a living, growing plant that would 
brighten the outside world. Then perhaps, if 
she showed the way, other seeds might follow 
and change themselves into growing plants. 

“She felt very happy when she had made 
up her mind about it, and touching the 
little seed next to her, she said : 

“‘Little brother, I do not know whether 
it is true that if I bury myself I shall rise 
again into a fresh and growing plant. I 
can only believe what the Prince of Love 
has told me and trust that it is true. 

“‘So I shall slip through the little crack 
in the storehouse and bury myself in the 
earth. You must watch for me, and if I 
awake tell the others, that they too may 
believe.’ 


SWEET LABURNUM IN SPRING 121 


“Then the little seed slipped quietly 
through the crack, and the Prince of Love 
must have seen, and was glad, because he 
sent down the raindrops, who pressed her 
gently beneath the earth, and the wind, who 
covered her snugly over, and then as the 
little seed dropped asleep beneath the 
brown earth she felt happier than she had 
ever felt before — perhaps because she was 
trying to show the way, and to help make 
others happy. 

“Somehow she did not feel afraid as she 
thought she would, and kept singing to her- 
self even in her sleep this soft little song : 

‘“I shall arise, 

I shall arise; 

Some day, somehow, 

I know not now, 

Only, I shall arise.*” 

“For many days the sweet laburnum slept 
and dreamed beneath the barren earth, and 
then one morning she opened her drowsy 


122 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


eyes and felt some one lifting her up, and a 
voice, tender and sweet, like that of the 
Prince of Love, was calling, ‘Arise V 

“And then, before the little seed was fully 
awake, why, she found herself growing up, 
up, up, right through the ground — no 
longer a little, hard, brown seed with her 
beautiful life shut within, but a glorious 
living plant, fresh and new. 

“By and by there was a crown of delicate, 
yellow blossoms for her too, and her joy was 
so great that she called in ecstasy to all the 
seeds she had left asleep in the great store- 
house; when they saw her joy and beauty 
they longed to be like her, and one by one 
they slipped through the same little crack 
and buried themselves in the earth. 

“And so the world became fresh and beau- 
tiful again, but the little plant who led the 
way is still the first to greet us in the early 
spring.” 


I 

CHAPTER XIV 

ORIGIN OF MOON FLOWERS AND MORNING- 
GLORIES 

O NCE upon a time there were two 
little sky fairies. One lived in the 
moon palace, and the other lived 
in the sun palace, — and like all other 
fairies, they had work to do in the earth- 
world. 

Now the little fairy who lived in the sun 
palace was called the dawn fairy, because 
it was she who came to the earth just at the 
very peep of day and wakened everything; 
while the other little fairy, who lived in the 
moon palace, was called the twilight fairy, 
and he came just at nightfall to put the 
world to sleep. 

So, you see, one was a day fairy and the 
other was a night fairy, and the queer thing 


124 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


about them was that if the little dawn 
fairy should stop by the way to play, the 
day would be too long for the earth-chil- 
dren, and if the little twilight fairy stopped 
to play, the night would be too long for them ; 
and then, of course, the night and the day 
w r ould be so mixed up the earth-world would 
not know whether to wake or to go to 
sleep. 

The fairy queen had told the little fairies 
all about this, and she told them, too, if 
they ever did stop to play, why, they would 
at once lose their beautiful wings, and go 
tumbling down to the earth- world where 
they would have to stay. For how could 
they ever get back to the sky without wings 
I should just like to know ? 

Now the little dawn fairy was very beau- 
tiful indeed. 

She always dressed in the rainbow colors, 
with slippers, wings, and crown of shining 
gold, and as she came dancing toward the 


ORIGIN OF SOME FLOWERS 125 


earth, a soft, rosy light shone about her head 
and left a crimson pathway leading from 
earth to sky, while the tinkle, tinkle, tinkle 
of many golden bells made music and 
kept time with her dancing feet. 

You know she must have been beautiful, 
and you do not wonder that the earth-chil- 
dren loved her, as did the flowers that she 
awakened, and the bees and butterflies and 
drowsy birdlings sleeping in their nests. 

They liked to greet her as she came 
dancing through the gardens and orchards 
in the early, early morning, singing and 
ringing her shower of golden bells : — 


“ Wake, wake, wake ! 

The morning sun is shining, 
Wake, wake, wake ! 

The birds are sweetly singing. 

Wake, wake, wake ! 

The flowers are gayly blooming, 
Wake, wake, wake ! 

And greet the day.” 


126 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Then, all in a twinkle, the whole world 
was astir with work and joyous laughter, 
which mingled with the melody of the dawn 
fairy’s bells. 

Throughout the long day she danced and 
played with those in the earth-world, until, 
by and by, they grew weary of work, and 
then she slipped away to the sun palace 
again and in her place came the twilight 
fairy to lull the world to sleep. 

His clothes were made of the stuff the 
fleecy clouds are made from, all spangled 
over with silver stars. His wings were 
white, and his slippers and crown of frosted 
silver, and as he danced down the milky 
way, across the heavens, he scattered a rib- 
bon of silver stars which trailed behind 
him and sparkled like diamonds along his 
pathway. 

Very softly, very silently tripped the 
twilight fairy to the earth-world, his sweet, 
silver bells making music for his feet. 


ORIGIN OF SOME FLOWERS 127 


“Tinkle, Tinkle, Tinkle, 
Ring the twilight bells, 

Rest little flowers. 
Slumber little birds. 

The night time is here. 
Tinkle, Tinkle, Tinkle, 
Hear the bells, silver bells.” 


Fainter and fainter grew the sound to the 
drowsy world as the twilight fairy danced 
over the hills, — kissing the soft cheeks of 
the flowers good-night, crooning lullabies 
to sleepy birds in their nests, and hastening 
the children off the streets, seeing them 
tucked into soft, white beds, whispering 
gently, good-night, good-night. 

And now comes the sad part of my story, 
for the two little sky fairies forgot what the 
fairy queen had told them, and stopped to 
dance by the wayside. 

It happened in the night time just before 
the morning, when the fairy twilight had 
started home again, and met face to face 


128 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


the beautiful fairy of the dawn, trailing her 
rosy light behind her and singing to the 
music of her golden bells. 

He had never been quite so close to 
her before, though they had passed every 
day on their way from the earth to the 
sky. Perhaps the little twilight fairy had 
always looked the other way, — I do not 
know, — but now he thought she was 
the most beautiful fairy he had ever 
seen. 

And then, before either one of them knew 
it, they had stopped in the pathway and were 
dancing and laughing with each other, 
while silver bells and golden bells rang 
joyously together. 

But soon, very soon, their laughter ceased, 
for the little sky fairies felt themselves fall- 
ing, falling, — down, down to the earth- 
world, — and when they reached the ground, 
— why, their wings were gone ! just as the 
fairy queen had told them it would happen 


ORIGIN OF SOME FLOWERS 129 


if they stopped by the wayside to dance or 
play. 

Of course the fairy queen knew at once 
that the night and day were mixed, and she 
felt very sorry for the little sky fairies who 
had disobeyed her. 

A whole ribbon of little sunbeam fairies 
were sent to ring the bells of dawn and 
waken the earth, and it is said the earth- 
people have ever since had one night that 
is longer than any other in the year. 

Then too, she sent a whole band of little 
moonbeam fairies to ring the twilight bells, 
because one little fairy might forget again. 

And what do you suppose happened to 
the little sky fairies who had disobeyed ? 

The fairy queen touched the little twi- 
light fairy with her magical wand and 
changed him into a moonflower vine, and 
you may have seen his silvery white bells 
which blossom only in the twilight. 

The beautiful dawn fairy she changed into 
9 


130 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


a morning-glory vine, — her bells are of 
many colors, to match those of the rainbow 
hues, and she blossoms only in the morn- 
ing time. 

They both climb high, it is said, be- 
cause they long so to reach the sky again, 
but though they never can, they still ring 
their beautiful bells to tell you of the twi- 
light and the dawn. 


CHAPTER XV 


WHY PETUNIAS ARE STICKY 


T HE Lady Petunia awoke one morn- 
ing in a great fright. 

Somebody had broken into her 
house the night before and stolen away the 
nectar juice and pollen dust which she had 
been saving up for her friends, the bees 
and butterflies, who helped her nurse her 
seed babies. 

Who could it have been ? 

Not the butterflies, because they, too, were 
special friends of the Lady Petunia, and 
besides, they would not do such a thing. 

But the Lady Petunia knew grieving 
would do no good, so she set to work and 
filled her cups again with fresh nectar juice, 
and went to bed that night with a happy 
heart. 


i 3 2 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


And when she awoke the next morning, 
what do you suppose had happened? 

The nectar juice had been stolen again 
and not one drop was left in her cups. 

That was enough to make her angry, I 
am sure, but flowers are not like some chil- 
dren I know, so the Lady Petunia set bravely 
to work once more and filled her cups with 
nectar juice, fresh and sweet. 

Perhaps it was her love for her small 
seed babies that made her so anxious to 
keep plenty of nectar juice on hand. 

Not that the seed babies cared especially 
for it themselves, but the bees and butter- 
flies did you know, and the Lady Petunia 
knew they might stop visiting her if she did 
not sometimes treat them to her delicate 
nectar juice. And if they stopped coming, 
why, there would be no one to bring her 
pollen dust from across the way, which she 
needed so much to ripen and make her 
seed babies grow. 


WHY PETUNIAS ARE STICKY 133 



So, after the Lady Petunia had 
finished with her nectar juice this last 
time, she sat in deep thought, wondering 
how she could catch up with the robbers 
who had been stealing from her. 

She had not been thinking very 
long, however, when a lit- 
tle brownie hopped by, 
and she told him of her 
trouble and asked what 
was best to be done. 

The little brownie 
thought for a moment, 
and then he laughed and 
said : 

“Vrm will 


i 3 4 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Fox did with the tar baby. That was the 
only way he ever caught up with Mr. Rab- 
bit, who was stealing his milk and butter.” 

So, when the Lady Petunia had heard all 
the tar-baby story, she laughed and laughed, 
and then she set to work to make herself a 
tar baby. 

Not a real tar baby, of course, because 
the Lady Petunia could not make one of 
those, you know, but she did make some- 
thing very, very sticky, and spread it all 
over the under side of her blossom and all 
down the stem. 

I do not know whether you can guess 
why she did this or not, — unless you know 
all about Mr. Rabbit and the tar baby. 

Anyway, the little brownie hid beneath a 
leaf to watch that night, and he saw a whole 
line of black robbers leave their cave in the 
ground and climb up the stalk of the Lady 
Petunia’s house — one behind the other — 
and when they reached her blossom and 


WHY PETUNIAS ARE STICKY 135 


started in after the nectar juice the little 
brownie went off into merry peals of 
laughter, for every little robber stuck fast, 
in his tracks ; they could n’t go forward 
and they could n’t go backward. 

So there they stuck like Brother Rabbit 
and the tar baby — hard and fast — to the 
under side of the Lady Petunia’s blossom, 
and though they wiggled they could n’t 
get away, but stuck all the closer, and there, 
early the next morning, the Lady Petunia 
found them and knew who the robbers 
were that had been stealing her nectar 
juice. Do you ? 

They were very small and very black, 
and they begged and begged to be turned 
loose, and because the Lady Petunia’s 
heart was kind, she consented, and the 
robbers promised to steal her nectar juice 
no more. 

One by one she set them free, but ever 
since the Lady Petunia has been very 


136 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


careful to make plenty of sticky gum to 
spread beneath her blossoms and on her 
stem. You can feel it for yourself when 
next you pull a petunia. 

When all the other flowers heard about 
the Lady* Petunia’s trap to catch the 
robbers, they thought she was very wise 
indeed, and many of them began to do the 
very same thing. So now you know why 
some flowers always feel sticky. They are 
only on the lookout for little black robbers. 


CHAPTER XVI 


WHY CHESTNUTS ARE IN PRISON 

O NCE upon a time the water fairies 
made a piano for the Singing 
Brook. 

It took them days and days to gather 
up enough rocks to make the piano, but 
they worked hard, and by and by there was 
a pile of smooth white pebbles and gray 
granite stones, of all shapes and sizes — 
some of them moss-covered, which made 
the music very soft. 

These they placed across the pathway 
of the Singing Brook, that she might find 
it as a sweet surprise, and the songs she 
sang as she trailed her waters across the 
fairy piano were beautiful indeed. 

She sang of the soft twitter of woodland 
birds, of the sunlight sifting through the 


138 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


trees, and of the dance of the moonlight 
zephyrs with the leaves. 

One morning two little brownies, hand 
in hand, walked through the forest in 
search of something to do. They were 
dressed in suits of velvety brown, with 
deep collars of lace about their throats, 
and sashes and slippers of brown. 

On and on through the woods they 
walked, forgetting that the Wide-Spreading 
Chestnut Tree had told them not to go 
far. 

She it was who was their only mother, 
and gave them a place to sleep in her shady 
hollow. She it was who loved them most, 
and lent her branches to the spinning 
spiders who spun for them their beautiful 
collars, and she it was who hushed them 
to sleep at night with story and song, and 
sheltered them when winds and rain raged, 
— safe from all harm. 

A loving stepmother was the Wide-Spread- 


WHY CHESTNUTS ARE IN PRISON 139 


ing Chestnut Tree, and the little brownies 
knew no other. 

But to-day they had wandered away 
from her watchful care, and were follow- 
ing along the mossy path that lay like a 
ribbon of green through the woods. 

By and by they came to the side of the 
Singing Brook, and clapped their hands 
at the pretty piano the water fairies had 
made for her surprise. But the Singing 
Brook was fast asleep. 

It is sad to tell, but the little brownies 
thought it would be great fun to throw 
stones, so without stopping to think who 
had gathered the stones and placed them 
there for the Singing Brook, they began to 
throw, and threw them all away. 

First, they tried to see which could throw 
higher; then, which could throw farther. 
And then they began throwing at the 
spotted frogs that hopped in the grass, 
and at the frightened birds, hurrying home 


140 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


to their birdlings, and at the bushy-tailed 
squirrels, and at the little white rabbits 
who, with ears laid back and short tails 
raised, scurried through the woods as fast 
as ever they could to get out of reach of 
the flying stones. 

By and by all the stones were gone, and 
not one was left for the pretty Singing 
Brook. When she waked up and found 
someone had taken away her pretty piano 
she was very sad indeed, and ran quickly 
away to tell the water fairies, crying as she 
ran. 

“Hush, hush, pretty one!” said the 
queen of the water fairies; “a little brook 
should only sing. We will try and find 
thy pretty piano, or else make thee an- 
other one.” 

So up and down the banks the water 
fairies searched, but no piano could they 
find, — so at last they climbed into their 
sunbeam chariots and rolled away through 


WHY CHESTNUTS ARE IN PRISON 141 


the forest woods, hunting every nook and 
corner for the piano of the Singing Brook. 

By and by they found a stone here, and 
a stone there, and a stone yonder, and, — 
yes, by and by they found the two little 
brownies, each with a stone shut close in 
his hand, — lying asleep in the hollow of 
the Wide-Spreading Chestnut Tree. 

“Wake, wake!” cried the water fairies, 
sprinkling rain drops into their faces. “Why 
have you taken away the Singing Brook’s 
piano ? She is sad and wishes it back 
again.” 

“Oh, we did not know!” mumbled the 
drowsy brownies. “We are sleepy; let 
us alone.” 

“Did not know?” stormed the water 
fairies. “Did not know? That is never 
an excuse for anyone ! Those who do 
not know should be kept in prison and 
not allowed to roam the forest woods. 

“To-day we have found delicate flowers 


i 4 2 overheard in fairyland 


bruised and broken, we have found fright- 
ened birds with blood-stained wings, we 
have found timid white rabbits, stiff with 
fright, and squirrels with broken limbs ! 
And yet, you did not know ! 

“To be stoned as you have stoned shall 
be your fate, that you may do no more 
mischief, — come.” 

But the poor little brownies did not want 
to be stoned, and they were too stiff with 
fright themselves to move, so I do not 
know what they would have done had it 
not been for their stepmother, the Wide- 
Spreading Chestnut Tree. 

She was both grieved and surprised at 
what she had heard ; surprised to hear 
that the brownies she sheltered and loved 
would take away from the Singing Brook, 
— grieved that they would stone the timid 
wild creatures of the woods. What a pity 
they did not know ! 

“Kind fairies,” she said, rustling her 


WHY CHESTNUTS ARE IN PRISON 143 


leaves ever so softly, “will you listen to 
me ? 

“The brownies you see there have no 
mother; perhaps that is the reason why 
they did not know. Because of this I 
have sheltered and loved them, though 
when they strayed away I could not follow 
to teach them right from wrong. 

“Spare them, then, from the cruel stones, 
I pray thee, and when they have gathered 
up again the stones for the Singing Brook, 
send them back to me. 

“I shall make for them a prison house, 
wherein they shall be safely locked, and 
never shall they stray therefrom, unless 
taken out by the fairies themselves.” 

“It is well,” replied the water fairies; 
“thy wish is granted thee, kind tree, be- 
cause of thy love for these mischievous 
brownies, — but see to it that they stray 
no more from thy side, lest they forget and 
other mischief do.” 


i 4 4 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Then, whirling their swift little sun- 
beam chariots, the water fairies galloped 
away through the forest, leaving the 
brownies to gather up the stones they 
had thrown away, and carry them again 
to the Singing Brook. 

Some of them they could never find, 
and for this reason the song of the brook 
is sometimes sad. 

The Wide-Spreading Chestnut Tree kept 
her promise, and all through the moonlit 
night she worked away on their prison room, 
making it as dainty and snug as possible. 

Outside it is round and green and very 
full of stickers. But inside there are two 
velvety cradles, as soft as down, and fit 
for the cradle of a king’s baby. 

To-day you may find it out in the woods, 
with the brownies locked snugly within, 
still dressed in their suits of velvety brown. 

Do not try to let them out of their prison, 
— you will surely stick your fingers. 


WHY CHESTNUTS ARE IN PRISON 145 


And do not pound them out with stones, 
either, — for the sake of the Wide-Spread- 
ing Chestnut Tree. 

Wait, it is the frost fairies who will turn 
them out ! They will come tripping through 
the silent woods, scattering their white 
powder everywhere. They will tap gently 
on the prison doors of the little brownies, 
and will laugh when the doors burst open 
and the little brownies come tumbling down 
to the ground beneath the Wide-Spreading 
Chestnut Tree. 

Peep into their thorn-clad prison, so 
green and round, and you will see the 
snug little cradles as soft as down. 


10 


CHAPTER XVII 


WHY THE IVY IS ALWAYS GREEN 
HERE were once two small plants 



that grew on the edge of a rough, 


red ditch. One of them was an 
ivy plant and the other a tiny fig tree. 

It was early in the morning when they 
first awoke and looked around to see how 
they liked the world. 

“I think it is an ugly old world,” said 
the young fig tree. “I see only a rough, 
red ditch with dirty water flowing below.” 

“Oh, it is a beautiful world,” replied 
the ivy vine. “I see clouds floating on 
high, and sunshine, and such lovely trees 
and flowers growing over on the other 
side of the ditch ! Let us try to make this 
side beautiful, too. 


WHY THE IVY IS ALWAYS GREEN 147 


“I will cover the rough, red places with 
pretty, green leaves, and you can decorate 
with your wonderful pink blossoms. Come, 
let us try.” 

“No,” said the small fig tree, “I would 
not waste my time trying to make this ugly 
old place beautiful. 

“Now if, like my mother, I could have 
grown in the soft, rich earth of the garden, 
I would have tried to do something, but 
here there is no use.” 

So, from day to day, the little fig tree 
grumbled. Nothing pleased her. If the 
sun shone she said it was too hot; if the 
rain fell she said it was too wet; and if 
the wind blew she said it was too cold. 

But with the little ivy vine it was very 
different, and she was as happy as a lark 
from early morning until night. 

“Whether the sun shines or whether 
the rains fall, it is God’s will,” said the 
little vine, “and I am well pleased. I 


1 48 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


shall do all I can to make my side of this 
ditch beautiful, and I shall begin to-day.” 

And so she did. Though she lived only 
on the edge of the red ditch, she spread 
out her leaves day by day, running here 
and there and yonder, hiding this red spot 
and that red spot, until by and by nothing 
could be seen but the beautiful green leaves 
of the ivy, and she did not stop until every 
ugly spot was hidden by her graceful 
garlands. 

“Oh, it is beautiful, beautiful, now,” 
cried the ivy; “only look!” 

“Yes,” said the fig tree, crossly, “but 
no one sees it. What are you going to do 
now? Dry up, I suppose, since you can 
never cross the ditch.” 

“Oh, but I shall cross the ditch,” said 
the ivy vine. “I shall keep on trying until 
I do. There is so much on the other side 
I can do to help make the earth-world 
beautiful. Surely there is a way to cross.” 


WHY THE IVY IS ALWAYS GREEN 149 


So she ran out little tendrils, reaching 
here and there, searching everywhere for 
a way to cross the ditch. And at last, by 
climbing down to the edge of the muddy 
water, she reached a rock half way across, 
where she stopped for a moment to rest 
and wonder what next to do. 

“You ’ll never get across,” laughed the 
fig tree. “I told you so! You might as 
well make up your mind to dry up and 
stop trying.” 

“I shall never stop trying,” called back 
the ivy vine. “There is a way to cross all 
ditches, and I shall cross this one. Wait 
and see.” 

“Bravo, my pretty one!” said the voice 
of the old oak tree close by. “Cling to 
my roots there. I am old and worn, but 
it is a joy to help one like you; reach out 
and I will pull you up.” 

So, with one huge stretch the ivy vine 
clung tightly to the twisted roots of the 


i 5 o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


old oak, and was soon laughing merrily 
on the other side. 

“Dear me, but you are a brave little 
vine,” said the old oak. 44 1 have been 
watching you across the ditch all these 
months, and you have changed its ugly, 
red banks into a real thing of beauty. 

“Now there was a time, once, when 
flowers and grasses grew there, and ferns 
fringed the edge of the brook, and it was 
beautiful, indeed. Every fall I shook arm- 
fuls of crimson and yellow leaves upon the 
bank, but that was long ago, before the 
great forest fire which robbed me of my 
limbs and leaves and left me old and 
worn. 

44 What a joy it would be to me if only 
I might have my branches decked in leaves 
one more time, — especially do I long for 
this in the glad spring time, when trees and 
flowers are robing themselves for the joyous 
Easter Day. 


WHY THE IVY IS ALWAYS GREEN 151 


“Sad, indeed, it is to me, to know that 
I shall be clothed no more in a fresh dress 
of delicate green, like your own pretty leaves, 
dear Ivy.” 

“But you shall,” said the ivy vine, clap- 
ping her hands ; “you have helped me cross 
the ditch to-day, and I mean to give you 
an Easter dress. Watch me.” 

Now vines had never climbed high before 
this. They had only run along the ground 
and down the hill, and over walls, but this 
little ivy vine wrapped her delicate arms 
around the rough bark of the old oak, and 
began to climb hex first tree. 

She pulled and stretched, and stretched 
and pulled, until little by little, up, up, 
higher and higher she went, leaving a trail 
of rich, green leaves behind her. It was a 
lovely sight. 

“See ! ” she called to the old oak; “I am 
bringing you a most beautiful Easter dress, 
— how do you like it?” 


i 5 2 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“ Beautiful, beautiful!” laughed the old 
oak. “You make me feel young again. 
But what will you do when you reach my 
branches ?” 

“Why, I shall keep on climbing,” re- 
plied the ivy vine. “When I give a dress 
at all, it must be a whole dress, don’t you 
know ? I shall not stop until I have covered 
every branch, as I did the bare spots on the 
ditch.” 

And so she did. Every day she climbed 
a little higher, until by and by every limb 
on the great, old oak was completely hidden 
by the beautiful leaves of the ivy. The old 
oak laughed in delight, as she looked on 
her beautiful Easter dress of fresh, rich 
green. 

Now the queen of the fairies who, I told 
you, was always on the watch for beautiful 
deeds, stood under the old oak on Easter 
Day and wondered at the beautiful sight. 
It made her glad to see the joy of the old 


WHY THE IVY IS ALWAYS GREEN 153 


oak in her new dress, and of course she 
knew who had given it. 

So, turning with a smile to the ivy vine, 
she said, “Because you have tried to make 
others happy and to make the earth beauti- 
ful your leaves shall never fade. Forever 
and forever they shall stay beautiful and 
green. Cold shall not hurt them nor sum- 
mer’s heat destroy them, and wherever you 
go you shall gladden the hearts of man 
with your freshness and beauty.” 

Very happy, indeed, did these words make 
the pretty ivy vine, and ever since she has 
been climbing over the earth-world, hunt- 
ing bare places to make more beautiful. 

Stone walls and churches and houses, — 
no place seems too high for her to climb, 
and never does she weary in making fresh 
Easter dresses for the trees that are old and 
worn and cannot make them for themselves. 

But the little fig tree, — what do you 
suppose became of her? 


i54 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


At that time every fig tree was known to 
bear clusters of pretty pink blossoms among 
their leaves. But what was the use of 
beautiful flowers that would not blossom 
to make the world beautiful ? 

None at all, the fairy queen said. So, 
ever since, the blossom of the fig tree has 
been shut up within her figs ; you can break 
them open and see for yourself. 

The little fig tree felt very sorry that she 
had been so foolish, and she said to her- 
self, “Though I cannot show my blos- 
soms to the earth-children any more, I can 
make my figs sweet and fresh for them to 
eat, and they will then love me, as they do 
the pretty ivy vine, who brightens every 
spot she touches.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 

WHY ROSES HAVE THORNS 

T HE fairy Trueheart came to the 
earth-world one day in search of 
a good child. 

All day she walked the streets of a great 
city where many children were at play, 
scattered here and there in merry groups, 
on the sidewalks, in the parks, and along 
grassy squares. 

The fairy Trueheart liked to watch the 
children play, and though they did not know 
'a fairy was near, she stood close to them 
and listened to see if their words and deeds 
were alw T ays kind. 

But there was a shadow on her sweet 
face to-day, for, as I told you, she had 
come to the earth-world expressly to find a 


156 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


good child, and her search had been in 
vain. 

She had patiently stood among group 
after group of children, and just as she 
thought perhaps she had found the good 
child, why, she would straightway hear 
ugly, cross words, and this very little child 
whom she had thought to be good would 
join with the others and fuss and quarrel 
because the game did not go just right. 
Then they would call one another ugly 
names, and the fairy Trueheart would 
turn sorrowfully away and hasten on, be- 
cause she knew the good child was not 
there. 

And then she would stop by some other 
group, where children with fair faces and 
sunny hair were at play, and the fairy 
Trueheart would say, ‘‘Surely, a good 
child plays here.” But, no ! for just at this 
moment there would be a piercing scream, 
and she would see a very little boy sob- 


WHY ROSES HAVE THORNS 157 



ing because a 
great big boy had taken his 
marbles away. 

And so once more the fairy True- 
heart would hasten on her way, only 
to find in other groups the same 
sad sight, — perhaps a baby girl cry- 
ing, with face tear-stained and soiled, 
because the sister whom she loved best of 
all had slapped her, and then ran away and 
hidden so that the tiny footsteps might not 


follow. 

Poor little baby sister! The fairy True- 


158 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


heart stooped down and kissed the tears 
away from the sweet blue eyes, and taking 
the chubby hand in hers, led her away to 
her home. 

Perhaps, after all, she might find the 
good child there. But no ! in the children’s 
homes it was the same. They would fuss 
because one had a larger slice of cake or 
another a redder apple, until the fairy 
Trueheart was sad indeed. Placing her 
gentle hand on the heads of the children, 
she looked down into the depths of their 
clear, bright eyes and asked why it was 
they acted thus, when it was so much hap- 
pier a way to do the right. 

But the children only bowed their heads 
and answered softly, “It is because we 
forgot.” 

And thus the night had come, and the 
fairy Trueheart had gone back to fairyland 
very sorrowful, because she had failed to 
find the good child. 


WHY ROSES HAVE THORNS 159 


“What shall I do?” she asked over and 
over again. “What shall I do to help the 
earth-children to remember?” 

That was a hard thing to answer, be- 
cause, while the earth-children’s eyes are 
bright and beautiful, they do not always see 
the right, and though their ears are keen 
and good, they do not always hear the 
right. 

And even though their hands are soft and 
fair, they do not always do the right, nor 
do their feet keep from going astray. 

And so the fairy Trueheart thought and 
thought until far into the night, and at last 
a plan came to her. 

“I shall gather a great basketful of tiny 
thorns,” she said, “and at night while the 
earth-children are fast asleep, I shall place 
deep down in each child’s heart a tiny, 
tiny little thorn. 

“The earth-child will never know the 
thorn is hidden there until he forgets to do 


i6o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


the right, and every time he forgets, why, 
the little thorn will prick him, and this will 
cause him to remember.” 

The plan pleased her so much that the 
fairy Trueheart took the basket on her arm 
at once, and went in search of the tiny 
thorns. 

But alas ! though she searched and 
searched, no thorns could she find, because 
in fairyland then flowers did not have 
thorns, as many of them do now. 

At last she entered the Garden Beautiful, 
and told her story to the queen of the flow- 
ers, — an exquisite white rose. 

“Beautiful indeed is thy mission, Fairy 
Trueheart,” said the rose queen, “and for 
the lack of thorns it shall not fail. 

“I myself will be glad to bear the thorns 
for you, because it is my joy to help, and I 
should be, oh, so glad ! if through me, only 
one little earth-child should remember to 
do right. 


WHY ROSES HAVE THORNS 161 


“Come to me again to-morrow night, — 
thy thorns shall be ready for thee.” 

Thus spoke the lovely rose queen, and 
the fairy Trueheart hastened away with a 
glad heart. 

And so it was that the fair rose queen 
bore her first thorns. Others, seeing her 
good work, asked to join, until by and by 
all the roses and their kindred delighted to 
bear the tiny, tiny thorns, which the fairy 
Trueheart buried deep* wdthin the heart of 
every little earth-child to help him to 
remember. 

But the blessing returned again to the 
rose queen, as a good gift always does. 
For when roses began to bloom in the earth- 
world to please the eyes of mortal man, 
the dogs and cows and other animals of the 
earth might have eaten or trampled the 
roses underfoot were it not for these same 
thorns, which are always there to prick 

them and drive them away. 

11 


1 62 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


And you, little earth-child of to-day, 
should you ever feel the prick of a tiny 
thorn within, think of the fairy Trueheart 
and remember. 

The roses are here, and are watching 
you, though you may not see the fairy. 


CHAPTER XIX 


WHY DANDELIONS HAVE WINGS 

A LITTLE yellow bird fluttered from 
his nest one morning as happy as 
happy could be. 

He was happy because the day was fair, 
because the skies were blue, because the 
flowers bloomed. 

He was happy because of the song of the 
brook, where he stopped for his morning 
bath, and for the rich, ripe berries which 
nestled among the ferns. 

“All the world is beautiful,” sang the 
little bird. “This day I shall try to make 
everybody happy. 

“I shall fly and fly and fly from one end 
of the world to the other, and I shall sing 
the song that the brook sings. I shall bear 


164 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 



the message the 
flowers send. I shall 
tell of love, love, love, 
which reigneth everywhere ; 
surely this will make everyone 
happy.” 

So he started on his way — this little 
yellow bird, caroling the beautiful song he 
had heard. An old man rested on his 
plow to listen as the little bird sang from 
the topmost rail of the fence. A sick 
woman listened as he sang from the tree 
near her door, and a baby reached out his 
dimpled arms and cooed to the little yellow 
bird as he joyfully sang by the open 
window. 

They were all happier because of the 


WHY DANDELIONS HAVE WINGS 165 


beautiful song, and somehow it sunk deep 
into their hearts — so deep that they, too, 
caught the burden of its message and 
longed to make somebody happy them- 
selves that beautiful golden day. 

But the little yellow bird did not tarry; 
on and on he flew, singing on his way, 
throughout the long, long day, until just 
before sunset, when he reached a little white 
farm-house far off among the hills. 

“Here I shall sing my sweetest song,” 
said the little yellow bird. “Perhaps I can 
make just one more happy before the day 
is done.” 

So, flying to the top of the old stone wall 
near the orchard, fragrant with blossoms, 
he threw back his pretty yellow head and 
sang once more his beautiful song of love, 
about the sky and the brook and the 
flowers. 

But alas ! the pretty song was not half 
finished when a merry boy, his cheeks 


166 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


flushed with play, looked up and saw 
him. 

Quick as a flash he picked up a stone and 
scaled it straight at the little yellow bird, 
and the bird fell quivering to the ground 
— his soft yellow feathers all stained with 
blood; his beautiful song hushed forever. 

Poor little yellow bird ! 

The little boy stooped down and held him 
gently in his warm, brown hand. Somehow 
the light seemed gone from the day, and 
he did not feel so happy as he did before 
he had thrown the stone. 

Why had he not stopped to think? It 
was such a tiny little bird, and his song 
was such a sweet one. Now he would 
never sing again. 

As silent as the stones on the old rock 
wall the little boy stood, gazing at the 
dead bird in his hand. 

Gently he patted the soft yellow head and 
wished that the little bird might open his 


WHY DANDELIONS HAVE WINGS 167 


eyes — wished he might fly once more to 
the orchard wall and sing so brightly again 
his songs of love, — but the little bird was 
dead. 

At last the boy stooped, and, digging a 
tiny grave by the old stone wall, he lined it 
lovingly with the fresh pink petals of the 
sweet wild rose, and slipped away, — leav- 
ing the little bird asleep in the flower-lined 
grave. 

One by one the twinkling stars came out 
and shone on the little grave. 

The moon looked sorrowfully down and 
the flowers bowed their heads. There 
would be one bird the less on the morrow 
to sing love’s beautiful song. 

Somebody else came silently and stood 
by the grave of the little yellow bird. It 
was the fairy queen, and her eyes were wet 
with tears. 

“All through the bright day I have 
watched thee, little yellow bird,” she said. 


168 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“Thou didst try to make everybody happy 
with thy pretty song, and thy day has not 
been in vain, — an old man trusts, a sick 
woman hopes, and a dimpled baby dreams 
of thee. 

“And though thou didst lose thy life at 
the close of day thou didst not live in vain. 
Thou shalt rise again with to-morrow’s 
sun, and thy wish, to make everyone happy, 
shall still be granted thee. 

“From thy grave, pretty bird, the yellow 
dandelions shall spring, and as thou didst 
fly, so thou shalt fly again. And everywhere 
that one of thy white-winged seeds shall 
rest a blossom new and beautiful shall 
spring, — yellow like thee, pretty bird. 

“Thy blossoms shall gladden the hearts 
of all, — childhood and old age shall cherish 
thee. In winter’s frost and summer’s heat 
thou shalt ever be found, and thy yellow 
blossoms, bright like the sun, shall gladden 
the hearts of everyone.” 


WHY DANDELIONS HAVE WINGS 169 


And so came the dainty yellow dandelion. 
Swiftly she flies on her white-winged 
seeds; lightly she touches the ground; 
brightly she grows on her tall green stem; 
— to remind you of the little yellow bird. 


CHAPTER XX 


WHY HEARTLEAVES HAVE PITCHERS 

T HE Valentine Princess was the one 
who first thought of sending val- 
entines as love messages. 

She was the little school-mistress of the 
Brownie School, and always wore a dainty 
apron cut by the pattern of a heart. 

All through the month of February the 
little brownies were busy as bees with 
scissors and paste and colored papers, 
making the pretty valentines and writing 
the love messages on them. 

Then, just at nightfall on St. Valentine’s 
Day, all the little brownies tripped round to 
the doors in brownie-land, rang the bells and 
left the pretty valentines which they slipped 
beneath the doors and ran, ran, ran ! 


HEARTLEAVES HAVE PITCHERS 171 


Oh, it was great fun, and I have heard 
that some of these valentines fell to the 
earth-world below, and that is why the 
earth-children began making valentines. It 
may be that you have found one beneath 
your door. 

Well, the Valentine Princess offered a 
gold ring to the little brownie who would 
make the most beautiful valentine for the 
queen, and of course every little brownie 
was anxious to get the prize. 

There was one little brownie who was so 
very, very fat that all the other little brownies 
called him Jumbo, and it seemed he was 
more anxious than any of the others to 
make the most beautiful valentine; so he 
worked and worked and worked with 
scissors and brush and pretty papers, even 
while the other brownies were out at play, 
and at last he made a valentine which he 
thought was pretty enough to send to the 
queen. 


172 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


When everyone had finished his valen- 
tine, though, the Princess herself could not 
tell which was the most beautiful, because 
they were all so very pretty. 

But then, a brownie never saw an ugly 
valentine, anyway, and I am quite sure he 
would never make an ugly one to send 
away, any more than you would. 

Oh, yes, of course, I know that down in 
the earth-world you will sometimes see ugly 
valentines in the stores, unless you turn 
your head and walk quickly away, as a 
brownie would do. 

Well, what do you suppose happened to 
the little fat Jumbo brownie and his 
valentine ? 

That very day — St. Valentine’s Day it 
was — he was hopping along in the earth- 
world, visiting the flowers, when all at once 
he heard someone crying close by his side, 
and when the little Jumbo brownie looked 
up he saw a little fair-haired girl sitting on 


HEARTLEAVES HAVE PITCHERS 173 



the front door-! 

sobbing. And she held a valentine 
in her hand. 

“That is queer,” thought the little Jumbo 
brownie. “I never knew before that val- 
entines would make an earth-child cry. I ’ll 
just take a peep.” 

So he slipped up very quietly behind the 
little girl and looked over her shoulder. 
And then he shut his eyes — shut them 
very tight and turned his head. 

Can you guess why? 

Yes, someone had sent the little girl an 
ugly valentine. I could n’t begin to tell you 
how very ugly it was, and I am not sur- 


174 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


prised that the little brownie shut his eyes 
and hopped away so quickly. 

It was the first ugly valentine he had 
ever seen, and he thought surely an earth- 
child was like the brownies and would never 
send a valentine to anyone unless it had 
birds and flowers and dainty little pictures 
with love verses hidden beneath them — 
because a valentine is a love message, you 
know. So he wondered and wondered. 

And then, the first thing the little Jumbo 
brownie knew, there were tears in his own 
eyes, because he felt so sorry for the little 
girl, and all in a minute, what do you sup- 
pose he did ? 

While the little earth-child sat on the 
door-steps with her head buried in her lap, 
sobbing and sobbing, why, he slipped right 
up behind her again, as softly as ever he 
could, and dropped his own beautiful val- 
entine right into her lap, and then skipped 
away in a hurry. 


HEARTLEAVES HAVE PITCHERS 175 


Now, don’t you know the little girl was 
surprised and very happy when she raised 
her head and saw the beautiful valentine ? 

But the little Jumbo brownie, what about 
him? 

When he got back to fairyland it was 
just at nightfall, and all the other little 
brownies were getting ready to take their 
prize valentines to the queen. And he had 
given his away ; so he had none to take — 
no love message for his queen. 

So the little Jumbo brownie bowed his 
head and was very sorry, indeed ! 

Oh, dear, no ! not sorry because he had 
given his valentine away to the little earth- 
child — he was glad about that — but sorry 
because he was afraid the Valentine Prin- 
cess would not understand, and the fairy 
queen would wonder where his love message 
was ? That was what troubled him. 

But while he was walking slowly along 
with his head bowed down, — the little 


176 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


Jumbo brownie was thinking so hard, — 
why, he walked right into a clay bank by 
the side of the road. 

And then the little brownie laughed and 
laughed and laughed, and he said: 

“There now! why not make a love 
message out of this clay ? Why not ?” And 
then he laughed again. 

So the little Jumbo brownie stooped down 
quickly and from a bit of the soft, brown clay 
he rolled and modeled a most beautiful 
little pitcher. Then he gathered a bunch 
of the pretty green heartleaves and tucked 
them into the little brown pitcher; and the 
queen’s love message was finished. 

Now, don’t you think that was a most 
beautiful valentine ? The queen smiled and 
smiled when she saw it, and she said : 

“This is quite the prettiest valentine that 
I ever saw. The little brown pitcher is as 
dainty as dainty can be, and the heartleaves 
must mean love, I am sure. How did you 


HEARTLEAVES HAVE PITCHERS 177 


come to think about this pretty valentine, 
little Jumbo brownie?” 

Then the little brownie told about the 
earth-child he had found crying on the door- 
steps, because someone had sent her an 
ugly valentine, and the fairy queen said: 

“Dear me! Can it be that the earth- 
children do not know how to make beauti- 
ful valentines ? We must give them your 
pattern this very day, little Jumbo brownie.” 

So she hurried away with all the other 
brownies, and throughout the shady dells 
and woods of the earth-world they planted 
the first heartleaf plants, which mean love. 
And they did not forget to tuck away the 
pretty brown pitchers, which the sweet- 
smelling heartleaf plant delights to fill with 
fresh, cool water to keep her love leaves 
always green. 


12 


CHAPTER XXI 


WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 

T here was once a little pixie who 
had such a loud, harsh voice that 
none of the flowers would offer him 
a home. 

In those days hyacinths did not have the 
sweet bell-shaped blossoms they now have, 
— there was only the rough, brown bulb 
and the long, green blades. 

But though the hyacinth bulb had no 
blossom, her heart must have been very 
kind, for when she saw the little pixie wan- 
dering around without any home she offered 
him a place to sleep beneath her leaf-like 
blades, and the little pixie was very glad 
indeed to take it. 


WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 179 


It was a great pity about the little pixie’s 
voice being so harsh and loud, but it was 
true. Everybody noticed it. 

If he went to singing-school with the 
other pixies, he always spoiled their pretty 
songs, because he sang so very loudly that 
none of the soft, sweet little tones could be 
heard at all — the very tones that make 
music so beautiful. 

Then, too, if the flower queen was telling 
the little pixies a tale, or talking with them 
about the earth-children, why, this little 
pixie talked so loudly and so fast that you 
could hear no voice but his; it would rise 
so high that none of the voices that were 
soft and sweet, such as the flower queen 
liked to hear, could be heard at all. 

And if she spoke to the little pixie about 
it he only turned very red and hung his 
head without saying a word ; and I am sorry 
to say all the other little pixies laughed at 
him then, until the flower queen placed 


i8o OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


her fingers on her lips and shook her 
head. 

Of course he had told the hyacinth bulb 
all about this the very night she offered 
him a home, when she saw him wander- 
ing around with nowhere to sleep. 

“Never* mind, never mind!” she had 
said as she patted the little pixie on the 
head. 

“We shall just have to cure that harsh 
voice, and make it the very sweetest one, — 
there is a cure for everything under the sun, 
and so there must be a cure for you.” 

So, after the little pixie had fallen asleep, 
she thought and thought about how she 
might help him change his voice into a soft, 
sweet one. 

“Send him into the woods,” said Old 
Mother Nature, who happened to pass that 
way. “He will find there many voices 
which will teach him how to sing.” 

So, early the next morning, before the 


WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 181 


sun was up, the little pixie started out and 
walked and walked through the still, deep 
woods. 

By and by he saw a mother bird fly 
swiftly past him, on the way to her swinging 
nest, and when she found her baby birdlings 
safe and warm, she sang out joyously : 

“ I love you, 

I love you.” 

And the little brownie thought the voice 
of the mother bird was very soft and sweet. 

So he sat on a stone and listened and 
listened to the bird’s song, and tried his best 
to sing like her. And when night came he 
went again to the hyacinth bulb, and told 
her of the beauty of the bird’s song. 

4 4 Sing like her,” said the hyacinth bulb, 
44 let me hear you try.” 

So the little pixie tried and tried, and the 
hyacinth bulb listened, but she did not 
laugh at him. She only said gently, “That 


182 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


is well ; go again to-morrow and listen for 
another voice.” 

And so the next day the little pixie went 
once more into the deep, cool woods, and 
listened in the early morning sunlight for 
a voice that was soft and sweet. 

This time it was the song of the rippling 
brook that hurried on in gurgling, merry 
laughter, and as the sound fell upon the ear 
of the little pixie he thought it even sweeter 
than the song of the bird, so he stood still 
and listened. 

But the words of the little brook’s songs 
seemed the same as that of the birds, for 
soft and sweet it sang: 

“ I love you, 

I love you.” 


And somehow the little pixie felt happier 
than he had ever felt before. 

He tried to tell the hyacinth bulb about it 
that night, and how very sweet the song of 


WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 183 


the little brook had seemed to him. And 
again she replied gently: 

“Sing like the little brook; let me hear 
you try.” 

But she did not laugh, — she only said, 
“That is well. Go again to-morrow and 
listen for another voice.” 

The next morning the little pixie got up 
very early and walked deeper into the 
woods than he had ever walked before. 

By and by he sat down to rest beneath a 
tall forest tree, and as he listened the wind 
seemed to be whispering a song to the 
leaves of the tree, — a song even softer and 
sweeter than the brook’s song had been, 
but the words were the very same: 

“I love you, 

I love you.” 

As the little pixie listened and tried to 
catch the sound of the wind among the 
leaves he grew happier and happier, and he 


1 84 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


felt that he, too, loved everyone — even the 
little pixies who had laughed at him. 

That night, when he told the hyacinth 
bulb how happy he had been all day, it 
pleased her very much, and when, without 
even being asked he sang the beautiful song 
to her his voice was so soft and sweet it 
filled the heart of the hyacinth bulb with 
joy, and she kissed the little pixie gently 


on the forehead and said: 



WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 185 


“Go, sing thy song to the world, little 
pixie. Thou hast learned well thy lesson in 
the deep, still woods.” 

Now the very next day was singing- 
school day in pixieland, and the queen 
herself was coming to hear the pixies sing. 

The flower queen loved to hear them 
sing, but this day the singing seemed sweeter 
than ever before. One voice there was that 
seemed to her sweetest of all. She could 
hear the tones rise and fall, now soft and 
full, now sweet and clear, as it mingled in 
sweetest harmony with the others. 

You know whose voice that was. And 
as the little pixie sang this day to his 
flower queen, his heart was full of love for 
her, and as he sang he thought of the voices 
in the deep, still woods — that of the birds, 
and of the brook and the winds, whose song 
was ever the same : 

“ I love you, 

I love you.” 


1 86 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


And so he sang it thus to his flower queen, 
because his heart was full of love for her. 
When the song was over the flower queen’s 
face was bright with joy, and reaching into 
her silken bag she took out a beautiful chime 
of tiny silver bells, whose music was the 
sweetest that ever fell on mortal ears. 

“These bells,” she said, “are for a little 
pixie whose voice pleases me well. To-day, 
as he sang, his tones were sweet and low 
and joyous. 

“He made me think of the glory of the 
woods, of laughing water and caroling 
birds and murmuring winds — of love for 
everyone.” 

Then, going up to the happy pixie, whose 
voice was no longer loud and harsh, she 
placed the chime of silver bells in his hand. 

He was a very happy little pixie then, I 
can tell you, and though all the flowers 
invited him to have a home with them, he 
thanked them one by one, but shook his 


WHY THE HYACINTH HAS BELLS 187 


pretty head, and skipped away and away 
to the hyacinth bulb, who had never laughed 
at him when his voice was harsh and loud, 
but had given him a home, the best she had, 
and sheltered and loved him and taught 
him how to sing. 

One by one he took the pretty silver bells 
from his chime and hung them about her neck. 

“They are for you,” he said, “because I 
love you best of all.” 

The fairy queen saw the sight and it pleased 
her very much ; so, waving her magic wand 
over the hyacinth bulb, she changed the silver 
bells into beautiful fragrant blossoms, and 
their exquisite beauty has ever since decked 
the hyacinth bulb with bells of many colors. 

In the early spring time they come to 
greet us, ringing their fragrant joy- bells, and 
singing the little pixie’s song: 

“ I love you, 

I love you.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


ORIGIN OF POPLAR BLOSSOMS AND HICK- 
ORY TASSELS 

NCE upon a time there was a 



magic pool owned by the fairies. 


Its waters were as still and 


smooth as glass, — so very smooth that it 
was often called the mirror pool by those 
who looked into its calm, clear waters. 

Now the fairies never make anything 
just for beauty alone. 

To be sure, everything they make is 
beautiful, but oftentimes this beauty is 
hidden and you have to search for it. 

This pleases the fairies, because it makes 
an earth-child better to search for a beautiful 
thing, and the fairies clap their hands in 
great joy whenever it is found. 


POPLAR BLOSSOMS 


189 

Now, close to the edge of the pool, so 
close that their shadows lay mirrored on 
the smooth waters, there grew a group of 
very strange trees. 

Neither leaf nor bud nor blossom had 
these trees, so that you might think them 
quite dead, unless you looked very closely, 
or perhaps chipped off a small piece of bark 

— and then you could see the fresh sap 
beneath. 

The very old people, who had lived a long, 
long time, said the fairies had beautiful deeds 
locked within these trees, — deeds that had 
not yet blossomed out, and they were waiting 
for someone in the earth-world to unlock 
them. 

Now this seemed very queer, but the very 
old people had a reason for saying this, and 
I will tell you why. 

Years and years before this time there had 
been two other trees not far from the pool 

— a poplar and a hickory. And they were 


190 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


also bare, though now it is quite the other 
way, for as you know, both are among our 
most beautiful trees in the early spring time. 

But anyway, so the story ran, they 
were once always bare, reaching their 
slim network of gray twigs toward the 
heavens, without the sign of a leaf or 
blossom. 

One morning at this time there was a 
frightful fire, and a brave earth-boy, at the 
risk of his own life, had plunged through 
the hissing flames and brought from a 
burning house a tiny sleeping baby. After 
placing it safe in the arms of the weeping 
mother he had turned away with a smile, 
though his face and arms were blistered by 
the great heat of the fire. 

It was on that very day that the very old 
people noticed with great surprise that one 
of the trees had blossoms on it for the very 
first time. It was the poplar tree, and on 
the petal of every blossom could be seen 


POPLAR BLOSSOMS 


191 


the orange-red picture of a flame of fire, — 
and so you will find it to this day. 

Now with the other tree — the hickory 
— it was very much the same. 

Not long after the fire a shepherd boy, 
hearing a little lamb cry, climbed down a 
rope into a deep, black cavern, and saved 
the life of the poor little frightened lamb, 
bleating on the sharp stones below, — 
bringing him safe to the top and binding 
up his bruised body. 

Then it was, as if by magic, the hickory 
tree budded out, and decked its slender 
gray limbs in beautiful rope-like tassels, 
hanging in mossy pendants and swaying in 
the breeze, as if to remind you of the rope 
which had saved the wounded lamb. 

So it seemed that what the very old people 
said about the trees was really true, and that 
they did have beautiful deeds locked within 
them — but it seemed queer that the group 
left near the pool had never blossomed, and 


iq 2 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


people believed they had something to do 
with the magic pool. 

Maybe so, but, at any rate, the pool was a 
very queer thing. Some people liked to 
look into it, and some people did not. 

This was because the pool always re- 
flected your picture just as you really and 
truly were — inside and out — and not as 
you liked to think you were. 

All of the good deeds and all of the bad 
deeds, deep down in your very heart, draw 
their pictures on your face, and the fairies 
made this magic pool so it would surely 
show these pictures to you. 

So you may guess why it was that 
some people did not like to look into 
the pool. 

Once, it was said, a little earth-boy looked 
into the pool — a little boy who always 
wanted his way about everything. 

He would never play any game except 
the game he liked himself. He would never 


POPLAR BLOSSOMS 


193 


do anything he did not like to do — never 
go anywhere he did not like to go. 

Indeed, he always fussed and fretted and 
kicked when asked to do anything he did 
not like to do. 

This little boy looked into the clear, still 
waters of the pool one day, it was said, and 
in place of the handsome, manly little boy 
he expected to see smiling back at him from 
the mirror pool — why, there was only the 
horny head of a butting, kicking goat 
fastened to the little boy’s shoulders, just 
where the handsome head should have been, 
you know. 

And the little boy turned away in anger, 
and hurried off from the pool, because he 
did not like to see just what he really 
favored. 

And so it was that some children never 
dared to look into the truthful waters of the 
pool. 

They could not bear to see quarrelsome 


194 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


dogs and fighting cats and growling wolves 
and poisonous snakes in place of the fair, 
smiling faces every little girl and every 
little boy should wear. 

But there were the other children who 
liked nothing better than to gaze into the 
still, clear waters of the magic pool — 
sweet children they were, whose hands were 
always helping, whose eyes were always 
kind. 

What these children saw reflected from 
the pool must have been beautiful indeed, 
because of the smiles that dimpled their 
fair faces, and the light that danced in 
their eyes. 

They never wearied of hearing the very 
old people tell the story of the poplar 
blossom, with its rosy flame, and of the 
hickory with its rope-like tasseled fringes 
swinging in the breeze. 

“And tell us now why the tall, strange 
trees so near the pool have never blossomed,” 


POPLAR BLOSSOMS 


i95 


they often asked, when the stories were 
finished. 

But at this the very old people only shook 
their heads and answered : 

“We cannot tell. Wait! the fairies know, 
and they will tell you by and by.” 

And so they did ; and that is what I am 
going to tell you right now. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 
'VAY up on the high hill, above 



the fairies’ magic pool, there stood 


a beautiful marble castle, and in 
this castle lived the little Princess Olga. 

She was a dear, sweet little girl, and one 
that everyone loved. Often and often the 
old nurse carried her down the winding 
path to play near the magic pool, and the 
little princess never grew weary of looking 
into its still waters. 

Not so much to see her own sweet face 
did she do this, as to watch for the angels, 
which she said she could always see, 
beckoning and smiling at her from the white, 
sandy bottom of the pool. 

“No angel is sweeter than thou, my 
princess,” the old nurse would say, and it 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 197 



everyone in the great castle, from the § 
Lord High Chamberlain to the cook in the 
kitchen, loved the little princess, because 
she was always doing something kind for 
somebody — and was just as glad to do it for 
the stable boy as for the king himself, you 
see, — which is the only way to be a real 
princess. 

And so, of course, little Princess Olga 
saw nothing ugly when she looked into the 
fairies’ magic pool, but instead, a rosy face, 


ig8 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


fair and pure like an angel’s, framed in a 
mist of golden curls. 

Her beautiful blue eyes often looked 
with wonderment up to the tops of the tall, 
bare pine trees, which stood so close to the 
fairies’ pool, casting fantastic shadows across 
its smooth surface. 

I wish I could tell you that the little 
princess was always as sweet and kind as 
she was when a little girl. But unless we 
are very careful, kind little girls sometimes 
grow into unkind big girls, and that is the 
way it happened with Princess Olga. 

It was very sad, but everyone noticed as 
she grew older that a change came over her, 
and she was no longer kind and good as she 
once had been. 

Instead of doing kind things for others 
she was proud and cross, and her words 
were so sharp that the stable boy and the 
cook and the Lord High Chamberlain said 
they stung like sharp needles, and even the 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 199 


king did not like to have his little daughter 
near him, because of her ugly, sharp words. 

I cannot tell you why this change had 
come. Some said it was because the people 
in the castle had told Princess Olga so many 
times that none was more beautiful than 
she, none so smart, and that none could 
dance so well, that the little princess really 
believed it. 

Others said, and the dear old nurse 
thought so too, that a piece of the black 
glass from the Giant Evil had somehow 
gotten into her eye, and made the little 
princess see things crooked as she grew 
older. 

I do not know ; but somehow, — yes, 
somehow, little Princess Olga did not like 
to look into the clear, still waters of the pool 
any more, and that was a bad sign. 

One night there was to be a great ball 
at the castle, quite as fine as the one Cinder- 
ella had gone to — and, like Cinderella, 


200 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


the prince was to be there, and everybody 
wanted to dance with him, especially 
Princess Olga. 

All day long she had thought of nothing 
else but the ball and the prince — who, 
she said, would of course dance with no 
one but her. 

There was a beautiful dress of soft, white 
silk all spangled over with jewels for her 
to wear, and jewelled slippers, and a wreath 
of roses for her hair. 

The patient old nurse was kept busy 
trotting here and there and everywhere 
trying to help her dress. But, though she 
did her best, nothing would please Princess 
Olga, and she fretted and fumed and fussed, 
and even called the dear old "nurse, who 
had always loved her, ugly names. 

She even forgot to say “thank you,” 
when at last she was quite ready, and the 
music was beginning to play in the grand 
ball-room of the castle. 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 201 


“You are so beautiful, my princess,” 
said the old nurse, “you make me think 
of the fair little angel face that used to smile 
back at you from the fairies’ pool when 
once we used to play there.” 

This pleased Princess Olga because she 
liked to be told she looked like an angel — 
I think she even believed it. 

Anyway, all at once she decided she 
must see herself in the clear waters of the 
magic pool once more. If she was beau- 
tiful in her own mirror, how much more 
beautiful she would look in the mirror of 
the fairies, she thought. 

So, throwing a lace shawl over her 
shoulders, she quickly ran down the wind- 
ing path, in the bright moonlight, and 
stood on the edge of the magic pool. 

But as she gazed into the truthful waters 
of the clear pool, expecting to see the fair 
angel face that once had smiled at her 
there, — what do you think ? 


202 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


With a scream Princess Olga threw her 
hands up over her face and fled to the 
castle, locking herself within her room. 

Instead of the beautiful face she thought 
she would see in the pool, there was one 
that was ugly and pinched and cross. 

Needles, the sharpest you ever saw, 
rusty and brown, were growing out from 
her body like spikes, — from her cheeks, 
her eyes, her ears, her nose, her limbs, — 
everywhere she saw only the sharp, pricking 
needles, until she looked more like a por- 
cupine covered with brown bristles than 
a beautiful princess with whom a prince 
would like to dance. 

Poor Princess Olga, no wonder she wanted 
to hide herself away from everybody’s sight 
on this beautiful night of the ball ! 

Bitter tears fell from her eyes as she sat 
alone in her room. She thought of the fair 
little angel face, with its golden hair and 
pure, blue eyes that used to smile at her 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 203 


from the pool, and then she remembered 
all the cross, ugly, sharp words she had 
been saying to everyone since then, even 
to the kind old nurse who loved her best 
of all. 

No wonder needles sharp and brown 
had grown from her body when she was 
so ugly inside. 

“Oh, I wish, I wish I could be once 
more as I was when the little angel face 
smiled back at me from the pool!” she 
sobbed. “How hard I would try to stay 
that way ! Oh, why did I ever let myself 
grow cross and mean and ugly, until no 
one loves me any more?” 

And then Princess Olga bowed her head 
in her hands and sobbed and sobbed again. 

But I have tried to tell you all along 
that the fairy queen is always kind and 
good, and is always ready to help those 
in trouble who are really anxious to live 
better lives. 


204 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


So now there came the soft tinkle of 
silver bells close by the side of Princess 
Olga, and someone touched her gently on 
the head. 

“Dry your tears, Princess Olga,” said 
a sweet voice. “I have heard your wish, 
and have come to help you, — if you will 
first help yourself. Listen: 

“The sharp, brown needles you see 
growing from your body are but the sharp, 
cross words you have let live within your 
heart so long. They prick you now as 
you so often have pricked others, — even 
those who loved you best. 

“But, because you are sorry for your 
ugly deeds, I have come to help you get 
rid of the sharp, brown needles, and if you 
will do as I tell you, you shall be pure and 
fair again once more. 

“First, try to undo what you have done 
— go to all — your old nurse, the cook, 
the stable boy, the servants, the Lord High 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 205 


Chamberlain, and the king himself, — go 
to all that your sharp words have ever 
pierced. Tell them you are sorry and 
ask them to forgive you. 

“When you have done this hurry quickly 
to the magic pool and bathe within its pure, 
sweet waters, and your body shall be fair 
and beautiful again.” 

In a moment the fairy queen was gone, 
and the princess saw the first rays of the 
early morning sun sift through her closed 
shutters as if to bid her speed on her better 
way. 

In deep thought she sat and wondered 
over the fairy’s visit. The thing she had 
been told to do was very hard for Princess 
Olga. 

None of us like to say, “I am sorry. 
Please forgive me.” And then, too, the 
princess feared the deep waters of the 
pool. Suppose she should drown? 

“Anyway, I am going,” she said at 


206 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


last. “I long to be good and beautiful 
again, that everyone may love me as 
before.” 

So, unlocking her bedroom door, Princess 
Olga ran quickly down the long halls and 
broad stairways until she had found her 
father, the king, and the Lord High Cham- 
berlain and her old nurse and the cook 
and the stable boy and every servant, in 
the old castle. 

And when she told them how sorry she 
was for all the sharp, cross words, and 
asked to be forgiven, her eyes were full of 
tears and smiles all mixed up together, — 
like the rain and sunshine on an April 
day. 

Somehow it did not seem so very hard 
after all, because everyone seemed so glad 
to forgive her, — and no one mentioned 
the ugly spikes that w T ere growing from 
her body. 

But, best of all, when she hastened to 


WHY PINE TREES HAVE NEEDLES 207 


the magic pool and stepped into its deep, 
cool waters she did not feel in the least 
afraid, but oh, so very happy ! 

And she smiled to see the ugly, sharp 
needles, one by one, drop from her body 
and float away forever on the clear waters 
of the pool. 

It was then, just as Princess Olga stepped 
to the bank of the pool, pure and beautiful 
again, that she heard soft, sweet music, 
like the singing of summer wind, come 
from the top of the tall, bare trees near the 
pool. 

And when she looked up, behold ! The 
trees were all covered with the slender 
green needles you see on the pines to-day, — 
but the brown ones seemed to be dropping 
away, one by one, — even as the evil deeds 
of the princess had done. 

A song the tall trees sang, as the princess 
listened beneath their shade, and it was 
this : 


208 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“Thy needles, Princess Olga, 

Now we gladly bear, 

But changed are they from evil. 

Into beauty sweet and rare. 

“Glad are we to serve thee, 

And hold thy needles tight, — 

Brave art thou, Princess Olga, 

To dare to do the right.” 

And so it is that we have the ever- fragrant 
pine needles which keep the tall pines 
always green. 

The brown ones drop, one by one, as a 
rustic carpet for the ground, and as the 
fresh, new ones take their places on the 
spreading limbs, they bid you remember 
the Princess Olga and put away your evil 
deeds for those that are good. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

WHY THE SUNFLOWERS HANG THEIR HEADS 

O NCE upon a time when Old 
Mother Nature was busy plant- 
ing her seed babies, — long, long 
ago, when the world was very new, — a 
beautiful redbird brought her two, small, 
brown seeds and told her to plant them 
well. 

“If they are brave seeds and grow their 
best,” said the redbird, “they shall have 
blossoms like the sun, and be almost as 
beautiful.” 

Then the redbird flew quickly away. 

Now Old Mother Nature loved the sun 
because he never failed to send the sun- 
beams when she needed them to help her 

care for the seeds, — he even drew water- 
14 


2io OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


drops from the rivers and made clouds of 
them that the raindrops might help her, 
too. 

So she felt very glad that these two new 
seeds might some day bear blossoms that 
would look like the sun, and she covered 
them over very gently, near the tall fence, 
and left them to grow. 

Every day she visited them and whis- 
pered softly : 

“Wake little seeds, wake and grow, 
higher and higher to the top of the fence. 
Wake, wake, and look first for the sun, for 
your blossoms will be large and bright like 
him; wake, wake, I say!” 

By and by the sleeping seeds heard, and 
stirred in their brown beds. 

“Come,” said the little sister seed, “some 
one is calling ; don’t you hear ? ” 

Now the little brother seed was very fat 
and very lazy, — he wanted to sleep all 
the time. So when he heard dear Old 


SUNFLOWERS HANG THEIR HEADS 211 


Mother Nature calling to him he rubbed 
his eyes drowsily and said: 

“I don’t want to get up ! I am not going 
to try to grow. It is too much trouble to 
reach to the top of the fence, and I don’t 
believe any plant can grow so high. 

“And I don’t believe we will have blos- 
soms to look like the sun, either; no I 
don’t ! ” 

“Why-y!” said the little sister seed, 
“7 believe what dear Old Mother Nature 
says, and I am going to try my very best to 
grow — try, try, try, try, — try to climb 
even higher than the fence. 

“You try, too, little brother; there is 
always somebody to help, you know.” 

“We ’ll help,” sang the sunbeam fairies. 

“We ’ll help,” sang the raindrop fairies. 

“We ’ll help,” sang the dewdrop fairies. 

So, you see, all were ready to do their part 
if only the little brother seed would just try. 

But he would not, and turning over 


2i2 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


in his soft, brown bed he lay still night 
and day, night and day, sleeping, sleeping, 
always sleeping. 

Now the little sister seed began at once 
to grow. She stretched her tiny foot roots 
down, and her tiny hands up, and pushed 
and pushed until she pushed right through 
the brown earth covering into the light of 
the bright outside world, with the blue, 
blue sky and white clouds sailing over- 
head, — and the grasses and flowers below. 

Then she remembered what dear Old 
Mother Nature had told her about the 
sun. And just then he came from behind 
a gray cloud in all his glorious splendor 
and shone down on the little sister seed, 
making her feel warm and glad. 

“Oh, you wonderful sun!” she said, 
“to think that a little brown seed may some 
day have a blossom to look like you ! Oh, 

j°y> j°y> j°y ! ” 

All day she kept her face turned towards 


SUNFLOWERS HANG THEIR HEADS 213 


his golden light, and longed for her blossom 
which was to be like him. 

Then she thought again of the little 
brother seed asleep in the earth, and felt 
so sorry that he, too, was not with her in 
the beautiful outside world. 

As she climbed higher and higher, she 
kept calling to him: 

“Wake, little brother; oh, come up and 
grow ! Such wonderful things I see up 
here in the light ! Come out of the dark 
and climb with me.” 

But the fat little brother seed would not, 
though she begged him so. He only 
stretched himself lazily and turned over 
for another nap — forgetting about his 
beautiful blossom and all. 

Higher and higher and higher, against 
the tall, dark fence, climbed the dear little 
sister plant, reaching out her broad leaves 
for the sunbeams to flit across, and the rain- 
drops to bathe. 


214 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


And one morning she found herself so 
tall, why, — she peeped right over the 
fence ! 

“We told you so,” said the sunbeam 
fairies. 

“We told you so,” sang the raindrop 
fairies. 

“We told you so,” caroled the birds. 

But though the little sister plant had 
now reached to the top of the fence she 
did not stop trying, but grew still taller 
and taller as she kept watching the sun 
and thinking of the beautiful blossom 
which had been promised her, — yellow 
and bright like the sun. 

By and by a green bud came, growing 
larger and rounder each day, and again 
the happy little sister plant whispered to 
the fat little brother under the ground, 
begging him to come. But he would not 
try. 

Another bud came to the little sister, and 


SUNFLOWERS HANG THEIR HEADS 215 


another, until there were a cluster of buds 
tucked away in their green hoods, waiting 
for the sun to open them. 

Then, one happy, happy morning when 
the flowers in the old garden waked, there 
stood the glorious sunflower plant, bear- 
ing high her cluster of wide open blossoms 
— each one beautiful and yellow like the 
sun. 

But, though they always smile at the 
sun, the beautiful yellow blossoms keep 
their heads bowed towards the earth — 
watching for the little brother, calling for 
him to try. 

And so to-day you see them still, ever 
bending, ever watching for the little brother 
who would not come. 


CHAPTER XXV 


WHY FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 

I F you had been in the Garden Beau- 
tiful late one moonlight night, you 
would have heard the Lady Petunia, 
all dressed in a violet robe, tell such a won- 
derful story that even the dewdrops nestled 
among her leaves to listen. 

“Once upon a time,” she said, “when 
the world was new, all flowers were white, 
and none wore the bright colored dresses 
we see them wear these days. 

“ The queen of the flowers was an ex- 
quisite white rose. She grew in the center 
of the garden, near the lake, and grouped 
around her were flowers of every kind — 
pinks, nasturtiums, poppies, dahlias, lilacs, 
hyacinths, phlox, daisies, daffodils, and 
many, many other kinds. 


FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 217 


“But all, like the queen, were dressed in 
pure white. 

“They loved the rose queen, because it 
was she who had taught them all the won- 
derful secrets that they knew. 

“She had shown them how to send forth 
their slender roots under the ground for 
food to eat, and how to carry it up the 
stalks to the leaves and precious blossoms. 

“She had shown them, too, how to make 
the wonderful pollen dust of gold, and 
even how to make the little seed cradles 
with the wee baby seeds tucked inside. 

“But one thing, the greatest thing of all, 
the rose queen could not tell them; and 
that was how to ripen the wee seed babies 
and make them grow fat and round and 
plump, — as an earth baby does, you 
know. 

“For many days the rose queen bowed 
her head and thought and wondered over 
this question. What could she do ? 


218 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“It would be too bad if the baby seeds 
from none of the plants ever ripened or 
grew any larger, for not even a little seed 
likes always to be a baby. Then too, with- 
out well-ripened seed, soon there would be 
no flowers blooming in the Garden Beau- 
tiful, — because there would be no seeds to 
plant. 

“So, you see, that was enough to make 
the rose queen sorrowful, and for nights and 
days she thought or dreamed of nothing else. 

“At last she said, one day, to a little breeze 
fairy who was softly fanning her cheeks : 

“ ‘Pretty breeze fairy, in all of your travels, 
have you heard of no one who knows how 
flowers may ripen their seeds, and make 
them grow plump and round ? ’ 

“‘I know how trees ripen their seeds,’ 
replied the little breeze fairy. ‘They ex- 
change their golden pollen dust with one 
another. I have often helped the wind 
blow it from one tree to another. 


FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 219 


“ ‘Perhaps that is the way flowers should 
ripen their seed babies too. I would help 
you if I could, but when the wind blows it 
is so rough and strong that I feel sure it 
would blow the dainty flower-cups all to 
pieces. 

“‘Why do you not ask the bees to help 
you do this or the moths and butterflies ? 
They would be the very ones to help you 
out of your trouble, and carry the pollen 
dust to and fro.’ 

“Now the rose queen had often seen the 
bees and butterflies flitting by the garden; 
but they never came near any of the flowers. 
So how could she ask any of them to carry 
the golden pollen dust from flower to flower ? 

“‘I must get a message to these bees and 
butterflies somehow,’ said the queen to 
herself. ‘How shall I do it?’ 

“And then, the very next moment, a smile 
played over her beautiful face and she said 
softly: ‘Oh, now I know what we can 


220 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


do ! I suppose bees and butterflies are like 
the earth-children and like good things to 
eat. 

“‘I will tell the flowers about my plan in 
the morning, and we will all make sweet 
nectar juice and tuck it away, down in our 
flower cups, and then the bees and butter- 
flies will be sure to come to us for a taste. 

“‘It is then I will ask them to help us ex- 
change our golden pollen dust with one an- 
other — roses with roses, violets with vio- 
lets, pinks with pinks, — that is the way.’ 

“And so the rose queen fell asleep, happy 
in her new-made plan, because she knew 
how happy it would make the flowers next 
day when they heard that she had at last 
thought of a way to make their seed babies 
ripen and grow. 

“And, indeed, they were very happy when 
they heard about it, and they began at once, 
and worked from early morning until night, 
storing away delicious nectar juice for their 


FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 221 


visitors, the bees and butterflies, whom they 
were expecting very soon. 

“ But alas ! though the nectar juice was of 
the sweetest and very best, none of the bees 
or the dainty butterflies stopped to take 
even a sip, and because of this the beautiful 
rose queen was more sorrowful than ever, 
and the flowers drooped low over the cradles 
where the young seed babies lay sleeping, 
sick and pale. 

“ It seemed that they would have to die 
after all, since neither the bees nor butter- 
flies would come to help them exchange 
their golden pollen dust, and this alone was 
all that could possibly save their lives. 

“ Surely something must be done, or very 
soon the Garden Beautiful would be without 
its lovely flowers, since there would be no 
more seeds to grow up in place of the flowers 
that withered. 

“ < I ’ll tell you,’ said the little breeze, who 
lingered again by the side of the rose queen. 


222 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


‘Why do you not put out signal flags of red 
and blue and other bright colors ? 

“‘All of your flowers in the Garden Beau- 
tiful are dressed in white, and perhaps bees 
and butterflies cannot see white. 

“‘Now if you will put out brightly-colored 
signal flags, I am sure the bees and butter- 
flies will come, because they like bright 
colors, and when they find out that you have 
made sweet nectar juice for them they will 
be only too glad to keep on coming. 

“‘Try it,’ laughed the little breeze, ‘and 
while the bees and butterflies are busy 
sipping nectar juice, the flowers can be 
sprinkling golden pollen dust over their 
bodies and wings so they will be sure to 
leave some with every new flower they call 
on.’ 

“The fair rose queen laughed merrily with 
the little breeze, as he talked, and then she 
said : 

“‘But wait; before you go, tell me, pray, 


FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 223 


where I am to get these brightly-colored 
signal flags you speak of ? I have none.’ 

“‘Oh, the sunbeam fairies can bring you 
every color of the rainbow, — red, orange, 
yellow, green, blue, and violet,’ replied the 
mischievous little breeze, tickling her leaves 
into fresh laughter as he flew away. 

“Then the happy rose queen called quickly 
to a sunbeam fairy who danced that way. 

“‘Come and help me, shining fairy of the 
sky,’ she said. ‘Bring to me, I pray thee, 
many brightly-colored flags. I would have 
them of the lovely rainbow colors, so beau- 
tiful to look upon.’ 

“ ‘ Flags ?’ replied the shining sunbeam 
fairy, pausing in his dance. ‘I have no 
flags, fair queen, but I can bring you some- 
thing better — dresses in all the rainbow 
colors, bright and beautiful to look upon.’ 

“So away he hastened to the palace of the 
sun, leaving the dear rose queen very happy, 
and when he returned there came with him 


224 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


many, many tiny sunbeam fairies, each one 
heavily laden, and oh, the beautiful, beauti- 
ful dresses they brought with them ! Soon 
all the flowers had changed their robes of 
spotless white for garments of the brightest 
rainbow hues — of blue and red knd violet 
and orange and their tints and shades. 

“Very soon there was a wonderful change 
in the Garden Beautiful and the rose 
queen’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink when 
she bowed her head in thanks to the kind 
little sunbeam fairies. 

“And it really happened just as the little 
breeze fairy said it would. 

“Very soon the bees and butterflies caught 
sight of the Garden Beautiful, decked out 
in its wonderful new colors, and over the old 
wall they flew in troops and visited every 
flower. 

“ Best of all, they liked the nectar juice so 
much that they came again and again, and, 
fluttering here and there, they carried with 



“ DAY BY DAY THE BEES AND BUTTERFLIES KEPI' COMING” Page 227 



FLOWERS HAVE BRIGHT COLORS 227 


them the golden pollen dust which was 
needed so much to help the seed babies 
grow. 

“ So, day by day, the flowers worked to 
keep a store of nectar juice, and day by day 
the bees and butterflies kept coming, until 
by and by the seed babies were ripe and 
plump and strong, and the fair rose queen 
knew the Garden Beautiful would remain 
as it had been — fresh and beautiful every 
year. 

“And now,” said the Lady Petunia, “my 
story is ended, and you know why it is 
that the flowers wear bright-colored dresses. 

“True, a few of them still wear white in 
memory of the fair rose queen, but by their 
perfume the bees and butterflies have 
learned that they keep sweet nectar juice 
for their friends and visit them just the 
same. 

“Some of these white flowers bloom only 
at night when the bees and butterflies have 


228 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


gone to bed. But the little gray moths that 
flit about in the starlight know how sweet 
they smell, and visit them often — sipping 
their nectar and carrying the golden pollen 
dust from flower to flower.” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


WHY NASTURTIUMS HAVE LINES 

O NCE there was a band of merry 
earth-children who sometimes wan- 
dered through the Garden Beau- 
tiful gathering seeds. 

They carried with them pretty boxes 
which they had made themselves, and all 
the seeds they found, ripe and plump and 
brown, they placed in these seed boxes, 
keeping them snug through the cold winter 
months, and planting them when the pleas- 
ant spring time came. 

The hands of the children were soft and 
gentle, and the flowers were glad to have 
them care for their precious seed babies 
through the frost and cold of the winter 
months. 


230 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


But there was one pretty blossom, the 
Red, Red Nasturtium, that the children 
always passed by, after a moment’s glance 
at the cradle where her seed babies slept. 

“We do not wish your seeds, Red, Red 
Nasturtium,” they said, “because they 
are not ripe.” 

Now the reason of this was that the 
Red, Red Nasturtium wanted to keep 
all of her nectar juice for herself, and 
of course when the bees and butterflies 
found this out they stopped visiting her — 
because no one likes to visit selfish people, 
you know. 

So, by and by, when the Red, Red Nastur- 
tium really needed the bees and butterflies 
to help her exchange her golden pollen dust, 
there w T as not one to help her, and her seed 
babies were almost ready to shrivel up and 
die. 

One night as she drooped in the moon- 
light, crying softly to herself, the fair rose 


WHY NASTURTIUMS HAVE LINES 231 


queen heard her and sent a flower pixie to 
ask what the trouble was. 

4 ‘The bees and butterflies are mean to 
me,” replied the Red, Red Nasturtium. 
“They will not help me exchange my pollen 
dust, and my seed babies are almost ready 
to die.” 

“That is very strange, indeed,” said the 
little flower pixie. “Since the time flowers 
first wore colored dresses the bees and 
butterflies have delighted to visit them, 
and ever since have gladly exchanged for 
them their golden dust. 

“Perhaps you forgot to make them any 
nectar juice.” 

“No,” replied the Red, Red Nasturtium, 
bending her head low in the moonlight, 
“I have made nectar juice, but I have 
wanted it all myself, and when the bees and 
butterflies first came I told them there was 
none to spare.” 

“Dear me!” said the little flower pixie, 


232 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


“no wonder the bees and butterflies stopped 
coming to see you. How can you expect 
them to exchange your golden pollen dust 
for you unless you are kind enough to give 
them a few drops of nectar juice for their 
own baby seeds ? 

“How could they even make honey for the 
merry children who visit the Garden Beau- 
tiful if all of the flowers should do as you 
have done? Everybody was made to help 
in the earth-world, you know.” 

And then the Red, Red Nasturtium felt 
her cheeks burn a deep crimson as she 
hung her head lower still in the moon- 
light. 

She felt full of shame that she had kept all 
of the nectar juice for herself and given none 
to the butterflies and bees, — the flowers’ 
best friends. 

“What shall I do?” she asked the little 
flower pixie. “After all, it is I, and not the 
bees and butterflies, who have been mean. 


WHY NASTURTIUMS HAVE LINES 233 



I am afraid they will never come to see me 
now.” 

“Oh, yes, they will if you will invite 
them,” replied the little flower pixie. 

“I will take my tiny silver pencil and 
draw a few lines on your two back petals, 
leading straight to your nectar juice, and 
when the bees and butterflies come 
you can just tell them to follow 
your fairy road and they will find 
something good to eat 
at the end.” 


234 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


flower pixie and the Red, Red Nasturtium 
laughed merrily together, and while the 
flower pixie was drawing the lines, the Red, 
Red Nasturtium cried : 

“Oh, oh, how you tickle!” And then 
they laughed again. 

But anyway, the lines were drawn, broad 
and plain, leading straight to the sweet nectar 
juice, and the Red, Red Nasturtium felt 
very much happier afterward, I can tell you. 

The next morning she was the first flower 
aw T ake in the Garden Beautiful, and she 
looked so happy and bright all the sunbeam 
fairies danced around her, as she sang her 
merry song: 

“Come this way, oh, come this way, 

I ’ll give sweet nectar to all to-day. 

Come, come, oh, come this way, 

You butterflies and bees so gay.” 

And at that very minute a busy bee buzzed 
by, and the Red, Red Nasturtium called 
quickly to him : 


WHY NASTURTIUMS HAVE LINES 235 


“Come, pretty bee, and see what I have 
for you ! Follow the fairy road along my 
back petals, and they will surely lead you to 
something good.” 

And so the bee did. He crawled very 
slowly along the lines that the little flower 
pixie had drawn with his silver pencil, and 
sure enough, they led him straight to the 
little nectar jar of the Red, Red Nastur- 
tium where he sipped the sweetest nectar 
juice he had ever tasted. 

“Thank you, pretty flower,” said the bee. 
“I have a pocketful of pollen dust from the 
yellow nasturtium across the way. 

“You may have it for your seed babies if 
you wish, and I will gladly bring you more. 
We bees like to help.” 

So he emptied his pockets into the lap of 
the Red, Red Nasturtium who quickly 
sprinkled it over her little seed babies, 
while the bee, with his wings laden down 
with her own pollen dust, hurried on 


236 OVERHEARD IN FAIRYLAND 


to other nasturtiums growing across the 
way. 

Then again the Red, Red Nasturtium 
swung on her stem and sang her pretty 
song : 

“Come this way, oh, come this way, 

I ’ll give sweet nectar to all to-day. 

Come, come, oh, come this way. 

You butterflies and bees so gay.” 

And hardly had she finished when a 
pretty yellow butterfly stopped by her side, 
and when she told him about the fairy lines 
on her back petals, which surely led to 
something sweet, he, too, followed the fairy 
road and drank of the sweet nectar juice. 

The yellow butterfly did not forget about 
the pollen dust, either, and gladly exchanged 
what he had with the Red, Red Nasturtium, 
who sprinkled it as before on her sleeping 
seed babies. 

So through all the long days to come the 
Red, Red Nasturtium sang her pretty song, 


WHY NASTURTIUMS HAVE LINES 237 


and many were the bees and butterflies who 
visited her, until, by and by, her precious 
seed babies were round and plump and 
brown, and the children were glad to 
gather them and keep them safe in their 
snug seed boxes until the balmy spring. 

The next time you pull a nasturtium, look 
for the fairy lines which lead to the sweet 
nectar juice. All nasturtiums have them 
now. 


THE END 


28G 39 


























































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